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THE MEN BEHIND THE BASS 


OR. 


Lights and Shades of Prison Life 


METHODS OF REFORM CONSIDERED FROM A 
CHRISTIAN STANDPOINT. 


ALONG WITH SOME OPINIONS OF DISTINGUISHED MEN AND 
WOMEN, WHO HAVE MADE A STUDY OF 
CRIMINAL LIFE. 


F->r Forty Years a Mii 


REV. 



of the North-West Indiana Conference 
now of LaPorte, Ind. 


N I I \ 

H> SANDERS, 


CHICAGO, ILL. 

S. B. SHAW, PUBLISHER, 

212 W. Chicago Ave 








C*W 


Copyright, 1903 

BY 

R. H. SAND HRS 


OCT ^ 8 1990 

COPY_ 

Dms\0^ 



iJMQ 


i l <2 1st n 



PREFACE. 


The character of the following work is so fully told 
in the table of contents that but little remains to be 
added by way of preface. During the wardenship of 
Charley Harley, Geo. A. H. Shidler, and the present 
warden James D. Reid, I have been frequently called to 
supply the place of Chaplain in the Indiana State Prison. 
During my visits there, which at times were extended in¬ 
definitely, besides conducting religious services, such as 
the Christian Endeavor meetings in the school room of 
the prison, and preaching in the prison chapel at the 
regular services, I was given at all times the privi¬ 
lege of visiting the prisoners in their cells, where I spent 
many Sabbath afternoons. In this way I was brought 
into close personal contact with the men, many of whom 
told me of the unfortunate circumstances leading up to 
their incarceration, and expressed earnest desire to be 
helped back to a better life. I became deeply impressed 
with a sense of their sad condition. Many of them, I felt, 
were not at heart criminals, but rather the creatures of 
unfortunate circumstances. I was also impressed with 
the thought, that the outside world did not understand, 
or knew but little of the real nature and condition of many 
of these men. These impressions led to the production of 
this volume. In its preparation, aside from my own ex¬ 
periences and convictions, as related in the book, I have 
given the opinions of other prominent workers in prison 
reform, such as that of the Hon. Charlton T. Eewis of 


national fame, Rev. D. T. Starr, D. D., Chaplain of the 
Ohio Penitentiary, Amos W. Butler, secretary of the State 
Board of charities, Indiana, and others gathered from the 
prison reports, of both State and National conferences. 
The chapter on Prison Problems consists largely of quota¬ 
tions gathered here and there from the sayings of men 
familiar with prison work, as is also the one of Illustrative 
Incidents. 

The leading design of the author in the presentation 
of this humble volume to the public, has been to awaken 
a deeper interest in behalf of the one hundred thousand 
prisoners of this country, and thus lead all who have the 
best interests of humanity at heart, in the Spirit of the 
Divine Master, to put forth more earnest efforts for their 
rescue. Also, to seek to aid, and help to provide means 
and methods, by which the large class of unfortunate 
children, in our large cities and elsewhere, may be saved 
from entering upon, and continuing a criminal career. 
Should this imperfect effort contribute in any degree to¬ 
ward bettering the condition of the prisoner, and saving 
the unfortunate from a sinful life, the wiiter will have 
received his reward. 



INTRODUCTION. 


Here is another new book. It is the product of a true 
heart, and of a thoughtful brain. It has a mission. It will 
do good. Some books are the products simply of the pens 
of professional book makers. 

Their mission, if they have any at all, would seem to be 
an effort to exploit a theory, or work a pleasing showing 
of some strange fancy of the writer’s brain. No duty is 
pressed home to the conscience. No great truth is set 
forth. Convictions which have to do with life and its mis¬ 
sion are not recognized. After reading such volumes the 
reader lias no consciousness whatever of any sort that he is 
enriched by added moral strength, or intellectual power, 
or high souled purposes to live a life of devotion to all 
best things, and above all else to have a character so 
true and unselfish in all its ways and aims, that its highest 
expressions of beauty in itself, and of usefulness to other 
lives, will be found in its full and complete abandon to God, 
and its all comprehending and perfect love of God, as 
Saviour and Lord. 

But here is a book that comes to us with a solid and 
well defined purpose. Its author has been with men of 
varied and varying experiences. He has had great oppor¬ 
tunity to study men in all sorts of moods and convictions, 
as they have appeared in sorrow and with dreaded lore- 
bodings, under the sufferings of an aroused conscience, 
and the tortures of a never absent fear. 


He has had opportunities such as come to very few 
men, to study motives in men when under temptation to 
commit offences against laws Divine or human. He has 
so well studied the principle and the questions underlying 
the relations of the criminal classes to the State, and also 
the treatment these classes should have meted out to them 
by the State, that he has been able to produce a book on 
the varied phases of all the questions arising therefrom, 
that will in its suggestions and teachings commend itself 
to the judgment and conscience of thoughtful men. 

Many a valuable lesson can be here learned, that can¬ 
not be found elsewhere. 




CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER I. 

THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, WHO THEY ARE, AND WHY THEY 

WENT THERE. 

Personal Experience — Nationalities Represented — Various 
Religious Beliefs—Different Political Preferences, Social Posi¬ 
tions and Occupations Represented—Men of all Ages—Prison¬ 
er’s Prayer for Loved Ones—A Mighty Army, 100,000 Strong— 
Memories of Childhood Days—Prisoner’s Recognition of the Au¬ 
thor—Power to Say No—Causes and Cost of Crime. 

CHAPTER II. 

HOW THE PRISONER IS RECEIVED, AND HOW INITIATED INTO 
PRISON LIFE. 

Registration—Numbering—Bath—Donning of Prison Suit— 
Receiving Cell—Assignment of Work—Talk with Warden— 
Chance for Promotion—Solitary Confinement for Disobedience— 
Effects of Punishment—Christ’s Example—A Child’s Reproof. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE INDETERMINATE SENTENCE. 

The Teaching of Christ—Advantages of the Indeterminate 
Sentence—Need of Non-Partisan Boards—Different Treatment 
Needed for Different Individuals—Objections Answered—Penal 
Codes of our Ancestors—Opinions of Leading Prison Workers— 
Help to Self-Control and Obedience. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE PAROLE LAW AND ITS WORKINGS. 

Legislation Secured—Change of Names of Prisons—Organi- 
aztion and Work of National Prison Congress—Connection of 
Indeterminate Sentence and Parole Laws—Use of Booklet, “The 
Parole Law and Its Rules”—Grades of Prisoners with Differences 
in Privileges and Dress—Parole Regulations—Parole Agreement 
—Statistics. 

CHAPTER V. 

GOING BACK TO PRISON AND WHY. 

Testimony of Geo. V. Vance, an Aged Prisoner, and Others 



10 


CONTENTS. 


—Some Hardened by Years of Evil Influence—Many Brought 
Back through Drink—Others Discouraged through Obstacles En¬ 
countered—Need of Christian Sympathy and Help. 

CHAPTER VI. 

METHODS EMPLOYED FOR THE REFORMATION OF PRISONERS, UNDER 
THE INDETEMINATE SENTENCE, ALONG WITH SOME 
SUGGESTIONS OFFERED. 

All Prisoners Not Criminals at Heart, Illustration—Sympathy 
a Potent Factor in Reform—A Heart Melted by a Kiss—Cruelty 
and Failure of Former Prison Methods—Prisons Changed to Re¬ 
formatories by Methods Advocated by Z. R. Brockway, Mrs. Ellen 
C. Johnson, and others—Special Points in New Method. 

CHAPTER VII. 

HOME AND ITS INFLUENCE ON THE FUTURE OF THE CHILD. 

Prisoners’ Ideas of Heaven as Related by Themselves—Heaven 
is Home—The Influence of the Home—Ratio of Criminals In¬ 
creasing—Criminals not Born but Made—Definitions of Home. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE BOY CONVICT’S STORY. 

CHAPTER IX. 

HOW UNDER TRYING CIRCUMSTANCES WE MAY INFLUENCE 

OTHERS FOR GOOD. 

Story of a Life Convict. 

CHAPTER X. 

HOW I BECAME A CONVICT. 

Left an Orphan—Adopted by his Father’s Friend—Went to 
Chicago—Formed Bad Habits—Became a Gambler—Resolved to 
Reform—-Entered Medical School—Tempted by Church Deacon 
to Engage in Speculation—Lost all—Re-entered School and Grad¬ 
uated—Went to Alaska—After return Robbed—Falsely Charged 
with Crime—Sentenced—Reached by Kindness—Converted— 
Comments by Author—Paroled. 

CHAPTER XI. 

A NIGHT IN A MURDERER’S CELL. 

Last Hope Gone—Confession of Crime—Prayer by Author 
and Prisoner—Sketch of Prisoner’s Life—Story of Temptation 
and Fall—Claimed Forgiveness of Sin—A Third Season of Pray- 


CONTENTS. 


11 


er—The Midnight Hour—Went to the Scaffold, Singing—Execu¬ 
tion—Comments by Author. 

CHAPTER XII. 

A convict’s burial. 

A Poem. 

chapter xiii. 

a mother’s love and prayer. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

A DAY OF STRANGE CONTRASTS. 

Description of Sing Smg Prison—Description of Prisoners— 
Report of Religious Service—Church Service—A Contrast Drawn 
—A Prayer. 

CHAPTER XV. 

MRS. ELLEN JOHNSON’S LAST REPORT BEFORE THE NATIONAL 

PRISON CONGRESS. 

Establishment of Women’s Prison—Account of Methods— 
Probation and Grades—A Difficult Case—Privileges Given—Rec¬ 
reation—Objects Kept in View. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE NATIONAL PRISON CONGRESS. 

Warden’s Department—Chaplain’s Department—Progress in 
Prison Reform. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

THE MODEL PRISON. 

Library—Parole Law—Change of Dress—Employment of Con¬ 
victs. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

PRISON REFORM. 

The Criminal Population within the Prison—Principles for 
their Reformation—Conditions that cause Criminals and their 
Correction. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

PRISON PROBLEMS. 

Christian Responsibility—Business Men and Crime—Is Im¬ 
prisonment Necessary in All Cases—Some Causes of Crime— 
The Church and Ex-Convicts—Opinions of Prison-Men—The 
Young in Prison. 


12 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XX. 

ILLUSTRATIVE INCIDENTS. 

At the Prison Gate—A Gift and What Came From It—The 
Old Minstrel’s Mother’s Home—How to Handle Bad Boys—Ex- 
Convict in China—Heaven is Cheap at Any Price—The Widow 
and the Judge—Five Minutes More to Live—It was the Cursed 
Drink That Ruined Me—A Heart-rending Scene. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

SPECIFIC REFORM METHODS. 

A Sabbath Morning Song—Marie Rose Mapleton’s Visit to 
Prison at Auburn, N. Y.—The Effect of a Song in a Gambling 
House. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

DELIVERANCE FOR THE CAPTIVES. 

Children in Training for Crime—Christ the Prisoner’s Friend 
—A Prisoner at Franklin, Mo.—A Service in Boys Reformatory 
at Lansing, Mich.—The Kind of Workers Needed. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

CONCLUDING WORDS. 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Portrait of the Author,.Frontispiece. 

Prison Entrance and Lawns,.21 

Bertillon Measurements,.31 

Illustration of Grades,.67 

Prisoners who have Forfeited Parole,.78 

Christian Endeavor Room,.105 

Interior of Chapel,.133 

Solitary or Death Cells,.157 

A Ward in Hospital,. 173 

A Group of Christian Endeavor Prisoners,.185 

Rows of Cells,.207 

Bath Rooms,.237 

Entrance of Prison (Looking south),.263 

Dining Room,.288 


(Prison Illustrations are from Indiana State Prison, Michigan 

City, Ind.) 


















LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE 


CHAPTER I. 

THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, WHO THEY ARE, AND 
WHY THEY WENT THERE. 

It has been my privilege, at intervals for several years 
past to stand on a platform in the prison chapel of an 
Indiana penitentiary. From this platform I have tried 
to present Him who was the Sent of God, He who came 
to heal the broken heart, to proclaim liberty to the cap¬ 
tive, and the opening of the prison doors to those who 
are bound. My message for the most part, was to men 
incarcerated behind high prison walls, or confined in lone 
prison cells. My audience consisted of twenty-five or 
thirty guards, a deputy warden, and some eight or nine 
hundred men, called prisoners, and branded as criminals. 
Many of these criminals were of a high grade, and serv¬ 
ing a life sentence. Various nationalities are represented. 
Among them are to be found Russians, Prussians, Ger¬ 
mans, Spaniards, Englishmen, Irishmen, Scotchmen, 
Swedes, Danes, and Polanders, besides a large per cent, 
of our own fellow citizens, of both black and white 
descent 

Nearly every kind of professed religious faith is to 
be found in the penitentiary. Once a month the Roman 
Catholic priest finds his way in the early Sabbath morn¬ 
ing to the prison chapel where mass is said and prayers 


14 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


are offered, in behalf of those who seek to walk in the 
footsteps of the infallible pope. Then too^ the Protest¬ 
ant denominations must all be reckoned as furnishing 
their quota towards filling the penitentiary. Inside the 
prison walls you will find those who have, and are ready 
to express their denominational preferences. One man 
will tell you that he is. a Presbyterian, or a Congrega¬ 
tionalism Episcopalian, Lutheran, Disciple, Baptist, or 
Quaker as the case may be. Even the Jews furnish 
their complement of those who attend the Christian En¬ 
deavor service in the early morning of the Sabbatfi day, 
and later, the orchestral music and song service, of praise 
and prayer, followed bv the preaching of the Word. 

Men of all political parties are to be found in the 
state prison (strange as it may appear). Some have 
gone there for offering bribes, and others for accepting 
them. At least I have found Democrats, Populists, Fu- 
sionists, Prohibitionists, and Republicans, both black and 
white, each and all ready to impart a reason for their 
political faith when opportunity offers. 

Then there are men of every social position, from 
the low down tramp to the highly educated and polished 
gentleman capable of moving in the best society and 
the most refined circles. 

In the prison we find men of every profession. From 
the professional gambler, burglar, pickpocket, crook, and 
masher on the one hand, to those on the other whose 
aims have been high, such as professors of art, literature, 
science, and history, and indeed those connected with 
almost every department of educational work. I met 
with one who had filled an important place as an editor 


LIGHT& AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 15 

and journalist in our own state. He was serving an in¬ 
determinate sentence of from one to fourteen years, if I 
remember rightly, for having published the wrong kind 
of matter in his paper. Another, a fine specimen of 
physical and mental manhood, who had, with honor to 
himself, and profit to others, at one time filled the posi¬ 
tion of president in one of our Indiana colleges, was 
serving an indeterminate sentence in the penitentiary for 
the crime of forgery. 

Then again there are those who represent almost 
every department of labor: skilled workmen of high or¬ 
der; machinists, mechanics, electricians, and men accus¬ 
tomed to all kinds of work, in all the varied marts of 
trade, besides a large per cent from the lounging ranks 
of ease and idleness. Then there are business men, such 
as bank presidents, lawyers, doctors, contractors, and 
even ministers of the gospel, who unfortunately have 
fallen and are now incarcerated. A young man engaged 
in the insurance business inquired of me if there were 
any insurance agents there. I was not prepared to an¬ 
swer him just at the time, but I learned soon after that 
there was quite a large representation of this respectable 
class, who had found their way into the penitentiary, of 
which fact I informed my young friend; but gave him to 
understand they were not doing much business or tak¬ 
ing many policies; I would not advise any young man to 
go there that has an eye to business. 

Men of all ages are there: young men, with vigorous 
limb, elastic step, and eagle eye; the darling of some 
mother’s heart and prayer, who, in silent midnight hours, 
groans in agony of soul, “God pity my poor boy.” Then 


16 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


there are men in mid life, whose homes have been broken 
up and made desolate because of the moral blight that 
has come upon them. Many of these men bewail their 
sad condition, as is instanced in various ways. Did 
you ever read the beautiful story of Hdoise and Abalard 
of the middle ages? If so you will remember how 
earnestly Abalard besought his love to be submissive to 
the will of Him who suffered for her redemption, and then 
closed his plea with this touching prayer, “When it 
pleased Thee, O Lord, and as it pleased Thee Thou didst 
join us, and Thou didst separate us. Now what Thou 
hast so mercifully begun, mercifully complete; and after 
separating us in this world, join us eternally in Heaven.” 

One beautiful Sabbath morning while conducting the 
Christian Endeavor service in the prison, I remember 
one of the convicts to have offered this touching petition, 
reminding me forcibly of this prayer of Abalard’s, “O 
Lord, hear our prayers to-day, in behalf of our loved 
ones, who are sad because of our incarceration. And 
we beseech Thee, O Lord, to hear their prayers in our 
behalf. And if we are not permitted to see each other, 
or dwell together on earth again, may we through Thy 
abundant grace, mercifully be prepared to meet and dwell 
together in Heaven, where sin is not, and temptations are 
unknown.” 

Old men are there, whose heads are blossoming for 
the grave. Some of these have been so long incarcer¬ 
ated they have grown white inside the prison walls. 
These men have all been charged with crime, and by a 
judge or jury, pronounced guilty; with regard to many 
of them we cannot doubt their guilt; there is something 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 17 

in their manner and bearing betraying to others the story 
of their wrong doings. But in regard to others, as they 
have opened their hearts to me, I have been persuaded 
that they were, perhaps, suffering unjustly. They have 
been the unhappy creatures of unfortunate circumstances, 
and the subjects of wicked, malicious, and designing men. 
In conversation with one of these one day, he said, 
“Eternity will reveal that I am an innocent man.” I 
said to him, “It is much better to suffer as an innocent 
man than as a guilty one. “Yes,” said he, “but it’s 
hard”; and tears dimmed his eyes as he repeated, “It’s 
hard, hard.” 

Some of these men have committed only petty of¬ 
fences, the result of their associations or environments, 
but show clearly the downward tendency of a depraved 
nature, while others have perpetrated deeds of such atroc¬ 
ity that whole communities have been shocked and 
thrilled with horror, as they have looked upon the scenes, 
or spoken to others of the tragic events. 

These are the men behind the bars. They are a 
mighty army, a hundred thousand strong in this country. 
They are marching to an eternal destiny. Do you ask 
who they are? They are men like unto ourselves. Some 
of them, it may be, are our own kindred, bone of our 
bone, and flesh of our flesh. Some of these are already 
far gone in crime, while others have just entered upon 
their downward course, and are now for the first time 
confronted with their sins. Quite a number have ap¬ 
parently become confirmed in ways of impenitency and 
crime and are now serving their third, fourth, and some 
as high as their seventh and eighth terms behind the bars. 


18 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


I had pointed out to me one of whom I was told that he 
was just entering upon his tenth term of imprisonment. 
But even among these, I am led to believe, there are some 
who are not bad men at heart, in whose breasts “feelings 
lie buried that grace can restore/' In their lonely cells, 
during the silent hours of the night time, undisturbed save 
as the guard goes on his quiet rounds, these men think 
over their past lives. They call to mind their boyhood 
days, when they were surrounded with hallowed influen¬ 
ces. They remember the counsels of their fathers, 
and have not entirely forgotten an old mother’s 
prayers. 

Passing through the prison library one Sunday after¬ 
noon I found a prisoner arranging some books. I 
spoke to him. He replied, then taking my hand, he said, 
“I suppose you do not know me?” “I replied, “No, I 
do not remember seeing you before.” “Well, said he, 
“One Sabbath morning, when you preached in the chapel, 
you related an incident by which I was led to recognize 
you. Thirty-four or five years ago; when a boy, I heard 
you preach a great many times; indeed I was your Sun¬ 
day-school secretary in the Old Zion Church when you 
preached at Winamac and Star City. O,” said he, “those 
were happy days.” 

I enquired and found he was serving his second term 
for larceny. He had belonged to a good family, but when 
he went out from his boyhood home he was unfortunate 
in the choice of his associates, his environments became 
bad. And then he had not that keen moral sense which 
is begotten only by the grace of God, or that strong will 
which is indispensable if we would not be overcome by 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


19 


the spirit of evil, or fall through the devices of wicked 
and designing men. 

“If sinners entice thee, consent thou not,” is the coun¬ 
sel of the wise man to his son, Prov. I : io. That is, 
when evil men would persuade us to do wrong, we must 
say no to them. In a world like this, the man who re¬ 
fuses to say no is already under a destructive process, 
and in the broad road to ruin. The apostle teaches that 
the same rule applies to our own inherent disposition to 
evil, when he says, that the grace of God that bringeth 
salvation teaches us that we are to deny ourselves ungod¬ 
liness and worldly lusts. Titus 2: 12. This denying our¬ 
selves ungodliness, and living soberly, in many cases is 
not an easy matter. It is a work, a warfare, and de¬ 
mands watchfulness upon our part. It might be called 
the negative part of religion, but it is a very important 
part; without it there is no goodness, righteousness, 
peace, or comfort. Without it there can be no progress, 
no growth, no stability in life. This ability to say no is 
the sentinel who stands guard and drives away the enemy; 
it is the keeper of the vineyard, who drives away the lit¬ 
tle foxes that spoil the vines, and drives away the beasts 
of the field which would lay waste the heritage of the 
Lord. This power to say no, or to resist evil, gives us 
our liberty, and renders us accountable beings. It is 
necessary to the development of real manhood. We 
know we have this power, else we would not so often re¬ 
proach ourselves when we go contrary to what we know 
to be right; the fault lies not so much in a lack of power 
to say no, as in a want of will or inclination. Even in¬ 
ferior creatures have this power. Look at them feeding; 


20 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


the grass may be green and flourishing, but if it is poison¬ 
ous, they will turn away and feed on the barest spots, 
rather than enjoy a momentary pleasure at the risk of 
sickness and death. 

I know it is difficult to go contrary to our own in¬ 
clinations, instead of yielding to them. Oh, what battles 
this causes, unseen by any but God! Then too, in so 
doing we may have to offend those about us. But still 
our only safety depends upon saying no to urgings on 
the part of those whose hearts are set to do evil. We 
must learn to say it, though the cheek may redden, and 
the heart may tremble. It may not for the time be joy¬ 
ous, but grievous; but it will yield the peaceable fruits of 
righteousness in this life; and in the end Life Everlast¬ 
ing. I have purposely dwelt upon this negative part of 
right doing, because it is a most important part. It is 
the only way of safety. If we are to be tempted, there 
are tempters all around us. 

I call to mind a young man, whose passion was that 
of strong drink. He had a widowed mother and a kind- 
hearted, affectionate sister. They wrote him the most 
tender, loving letters while he was serving his sentence 
in the Indiana state prison. Many of these letters it was 
my privilege to read, which I did at his request, as he 
passed them to me through the bars of his prison cell. 
I became deeply interested in him, not merely for his own 
but for his mother’s and sister’s sake as well. I found 
for him a situation on a farm, and used my influence in 
securing his parole. 

He left the prison, apparently with a firm resolve that 
he would never violate his obligations, or betray the con- 




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SOUTH WALL AND GREENHOUSE, INDIANA PRISON. 
























LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


23 


fidence of those who had trusted him. For a while 
away from the town and city where he was free from 
temptation, he seemed to have gained the mastery over 
his appetite for strong drink. He sought and obtained 
permission from the authorities of the prison to visit his 
mother and sister. After making them a short visit he 
returned much elated, and went to work for his employer; 
but after awhile he became very much dissatisfied with 
farm work and country life. He sought and obtained 
permission from the prison officials to change his place 
and employment, after which he went to work at a hotel 
in the city. There was a saloon just across the way. 
The temptation was too much for him, he violated his 
parole, and is now back in prison, to serve the maximum 
term of his sentence, unless paroled again. 

The same story might be told of many others who 
have gone out from their prison cells, with firm resolves, 
but a lingering appetite for strong drink; who have found 
the licensed temptations of the state, in this regard, more 
than they could withstand. O the curse of strong drink! 
How many homes are broken tip and made desolate by it! 
How the hopes and expectations of fond mothers are 
buried beneath the ruins of its deluded victims, who fill 
the jails, alms-houses, and penitentiaries of this and other 
countries, or lie buried in dishonored graves! And, may 
I not say, all shame to ‘the state or country, which will 
license the accursed traffic! And may I add, to the men 
who for the sake of gain, will engage in it! 

For several years, while in close personal contact with 
the inmates of the Indiana State Prison, .1 took special 
pains, while visiting the men in their cells, to inquire into 


34 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


the causes leading to their incarceration. And I am 
fully convinced that seventy-five per cent of the crimes 
committed by them were the result of strong drink and 
saloon associations. Mr. George Torrence, superin¬ 
tendent of the Illinois Reformatory, read a paper before 
the International Prison Congress field at Cleveland, 
O., a few years ago and said that ninety per cent of the 
criminals of this country must be accounted for from 
other causes than that of heredity. And that after the 
most thorough investigation he had come to the conclu¬ 
sion that the one greatest cause was intemperance. Chap¬ 
lain Locke, of the Ohio Reformatory, affirmed that 
through the saloon doors, to the prison doors pass more 
than half of the 100,000 prisoners of the United States. 

At the same Prison Congress, Hon. Eugene Smith of 
New York, a man of unquestioned reliability, presented 
a startling array of figures showing the enormous cost 
of crime. He said that during the year 1899, there was 
paid out from the public treasury of New York City, 
wholly due to crimes, $12,998,804; partly due to crime, 
which, but for crime, would not have been created, $7,- 
789, 259, aggregating a total of $20,778,063, cost of crime 
for one year. This would be an average of six dollars 
per capita annually. In San Francisco the average cost 
is five dollars per capita. In most of the other cities of 
the country the average ranges from three dollars to 
three dollars and fifty cents per capita. Mr. Smith es¬ 
timates the cost of crime annually in the United States 
to be $600,000,000, which exceeds the value of the cotton 
or wheat crop of the country. 

When we consider the vast amount of suffering and 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


25 


the fearful crimes resulting from the liquor traffic in this 
country and then count the tremendous price paid out 
for its sustenance, we can but ask, Does it Pay? If it is 
a fact, as represented by the highest and best authorities 
that the liquor traffic is the supreme source of all these 
iniquities, then why not protest against it, legislate against 
it, and wage a constant battle against it, night and day, 
until it is driven down into its native place? And yet I 
would not be understood as condemning in a wholesale 
way the right use of all alcoholic liquids. They may and 
perhaps do have their place in medicine, and for mechan¬ 
ical purposes; there let them be used if need be, but kept 
under restrictions in such a way that the best interests 
of humanity may be subserved. 

Then there are those in prison who went there by ac¬ 
cident, in an evil moment they yielded to influences they 
ought to have resisted, and in so doing brought upon 
themselves and others, sad conditions. 

A noted prison worker tells the story of a poor home¬ 
sick boy of only seventeen years who was serving a five 
years’ sentence in Leavenworth, Kansas, prison. When 
asked how it happened he replied: “Well, it’s a long story 
but I’ll make it short. I started out from home to do 
something for myself. Coming to Leavenworth, I found 
a cheap boarding house, and one night accepted an invita¬ 
tion from one of the young men to go into a drinking 
saloon. For the first time in my life, I drank a glass of 
liquor It fired my brain. There is a confused remem¬ 
brance of the quarrel. Somebody was stabbed. The 
bloody knife was found in my hand. I was indicted for 
assault with intent to kill.” 


26 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


Reader think of the awful pathos of such a story. No 
wonder that the worker who tells it adds: “As I wept 
bitter tears over the words so full of heart-break I asked 
myself the question, 'How long will the nation continue 
to sanction the liquor trafic to rob us of our boys ?’ ” 
Many of the men confined in prison are not at heart 
criminals; they are there through misfortune, rather than 
viciousness. I know of what I speak. I have mingled 
with these men and have heard their story from their own 
lips, as they have spoken of the sad influences which led 
to their incarceration. In many instances they do not 
claim that they are innocent, or free from wrong doing, 
but that under stress of great temptation, in an evil hour 
they fell, as if by accident. Perhaps under the same 
pressure many of us might have done the same thing. 
Others are there because they have set their hearts to dc 
evil. If they ever had any moral convictions they seem 
to have lost them. They have to be carefully guarded 
and watched while in prison lest they harm themselves 
or others; they cannot be trusted there; and unless by 
some efficient means their moral natures were changed, 
society would be greatly wronged if they were turned out. 


CHAPTER II. 

HOW THE PRISONER IS RECEIVED, AND HOW INITIATED 
INTO PRISON LIFE. 

It is interesting to follow the prisoner, and mark the 
stages of his initiation into his new life and surround¬ 
ings. As to the manner of receiving and dealing with 
a prisoner, I am indebted largely to Mr. George A. H. 
Shidler, who for two years rendered efficient service as 
warden of the Indiana State Prison. 

“When a prisoner is brought to the penitentiary by 
the proper authorities, he does hot get in by climbing 
up some other way/’ but passes through the front door 
from the east, into a reception hall facing two large, 
heavy iron gates. On the left, a door opens into the 
ladies’ waiting room or parlor. On the right is the 
clerk’s office with a large open window facing the hall. 
At this open window the prisoner makes his first ap¬ 
pearance after entering the hall. His name is taken by 
the clerk for registration, and a number is given him, 
which number corresponds with the numbers of those 
who have been admitted to the prison, and which num¬ 
ber he keeps during his confinement. No two men are 
ever given the same number, and when a prisoner leaves 
the prison, either by expiration of time or is released 
on parole his number is a part of the record that re¬ 
mains in the prison. 

The prisoner now passes over any money or other 
valuables he may have about his person; after which he 
is conducted to the front gate, at the end of the hall, 


28 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


which is opened by the gate keeper, and the prisoner 
passes inside, and the gate is locked. If the prisoner 
has hand-cuffs on his wrists, they are now removed by 
the sheriff, and the man is turned over to the receiving 
officer,, who takes him through the second gate, out 
through the guard room, and away to the bath house. 
The sheriff now returns to the clerk’s window, where a 
receipt is given him by the warden, showing that the 
body of Ebenezer Jones, who was convicted for stealing 
an elephant,* and has been sentenced to serve a term of 
from two to fourteen years, was delivered within the 
gates of the prison on such a day. 

Now leaving the sheriff to return home, or to go 
where he pleases, let us follow the prisoner. After re¬ 
ceiving a thorough bathing, or as the warden said some¬ 
times a scouring, he is furnished a suit of black and grey 
checked cloth, new shoes, and a cap, and shirt of the 
•j-ame material as his pants, and vest. If he expresses 
a desire to return his citizen’s clothes to his home, they 
are so sent; if not, then the prisoner takes the clothes 
and accompanied by the officer, goes to the door of the 
furnace under the boilers, the door of which is opened, 
and he himself consigns them to the flames. All evi¬ 
dence of his citizenship has now ceased. And he has 
become a full-fledged prisoner, cut off from the outside 
world, to spend years within the limits of prison walls, 
his parlor, sitting room, and bedroom a narrow prison 
cell four and a half feet wide by seven feet long and 
seven feet high. He is now taken to the receiving cell, 
which, “like the gates of Gospel grace, but for a differ- 


*This was an actual occurence except the name. 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


29 


ent purpose,” are said to be kept open night and day. 
There he spends his first day and night, uninterrupted 
except to fall into line for meals. Here he has an op¬ 
portunity to stop and think, to study over the events of 
his past life, and all the circumstance leading up to the 
commission of the crime for which he is now confined 
in a prison cell. All of this, the warden said, has a 
quieting effect on the man’s nerves. 

He is next called upon by the doctor’s messenger, 
who is himself a trusty prisoner. He comes to the cell 
house keeper, and presents an order for the new man, 
Ebenezer Jones, or number so and so. By this mes¬ 
senger he is taken to the doctor, who takes his weight 
and Bertilon measurements, and finds out all he possi¬ 
bly can about the man’s former life and family history. 
He makes a careful examination of his physical condi¬ 
tion, and passes his judgment upon the same, and makes 
out a written statement of all. The prisoner is then re¬ 
turned to the receiving cell. The commitment papers 
have in the mean time been sent to the deputy warden, 
who at his own convenience sends his messenger, who 
brings the prisoner before him, a copy of the printed 
rules is given him, and he is instructed in regard to them, 
and is requested to study them carefully in his cell. He 
is also informed in regard to his privilege tickets, the 
red permits him to see friends once a month, the blue 
to a ration of tobacco once a week, and the yellow to 
write a letter once a month. The deputy then seeks to 
impress the prisoner with the necessity of his obeying 
the rules of the prison; and gives him to understand that 
a violation of any of them will most assuredly be met 


3U THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

with severe punishment. The man goes away from this 
conference with the deputy, impressed with the idea that 
it would be safer for him to come in contact with a young 
cyclone outside the prison walls, than to be brought be¬ 
fore the deputy as a violator of prison laws. The deputy 
now finds out the man’s formef occupation, if he had 
any, and he is then assigned to a contract, State account, 
or idle gang. He is then assigned to his own cell 

During the first week of the man’s imprisonment, at 
the warden’s convenience the man is sent for by him. 
He is first reminded of his interview with the doctor 
and the deputy. He is told that regardless of his guilt 
or innocence, the management of the prison are there to 
help him, and he is kindly asked to co-operate with the 
prison officials, that the highest possible good may come 
to himself and to all concerned. The prisoner goes away 
feeling that all that is required of him is good behavior, 
and that the warden will see to it that he has credit for 
right conduct, as surely as he will guarantee to enforce 
discipline for bad. He is told that in case of grievance 
he can see the warden at any time suiting his conven¬ 
ience, by giving notice of his desire in the proper way. 
After this friendly talk with the warden, the prisoner 
falls in ranks, and becomes as one of the rest. If his 
conduct and health remain good he will pass along in 
the daily routine of prison life. In case of sickness he 
may fall into sick line’, and appear before the doctor, 
who will administer to his wants. If the cause be slight 
he may return him to work, or send him to a sick cell, 
or if urgent to the hospital where he will have special 
attention in the way of diet, ward, and nurses. 










































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LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 33 

At the end of three months, if Ebenezer Jones has 
conducted himself properly, he is raised to the first grade, 
and is given a new suit of dark steel gray cloth. Along 
with this grade come additional privileges. What in the 
second grade he had once a month, he now has every 
two weeks. But should he, during the first three months 
of his prison life make up his mind to test the rules of the 
prison, on complaint he is immediately brought before 
the deputy warden, and if found guilty, he is sent into 
solitary confinement, in what is known as one of the 
solitary cells. Here his arms are placed between iron 
bars inside his door, and with hand cuffs placed around 
his wrists he is compelled to stand for twelve hours out 
of twenty-four. He is relieved at eight P. M. each night. 
He finds in his room a pine board two feet wide and 
seven feet long; this he may place on the stone floor, 
and if so inclined he can lie down on it, to indulge in 
pleasant dreams of better days and happier hours. In 
the morning promptly at eight o’clock, the outer door 
is opened, and the man places his arms through the 
grated door, the hand cuffs are placed on his wrists, and 
there he stands until eight P. M. During this confine¬ 
ment he gets eight ounces of bread and a quart of water 
each day. He is visited each hour during the night, and 
has the privilege of calling an officer at any time, either 
day or night* to make his complaints known; and if the 
officer is not satisfied with his condition, he may call 
the doctor, who is expected to visit prisoners whenever 
called. 

The warden told me that this method of dealing with 
men brought them to their senses quicker than any other 


34 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


method of punishment known. He said, “You may think 
this a very bitter experience, and so it is; but there must 
be something done to check men when they persist in 
going wrong, especially when, understanding the condi¬ 
tions, they deliberately bring this upon themselves.’’ He 
said further, “We can but conclude that the punishment 
is none too severe.’’ And while I looked upon the war¬ 
den as a personal friend, and a man of good judgment, 
possessing a warm heart, and largely in sympathy with 
the men, I could but feel that this method of punishment 
was a relic of barbarism, and that some better and more 
humane method of treating these poor unfortunates 
ought to be devised, even if it were that of spanking, as 
employed in the Ohio penitentiary. 

The warden visits the “solitary” daily, and seeks to 
impress the man that there is yet a chance for him, and 
that when he goes out from this place of punishment, 
the debt is paid, and that he is still his friend, and that 
he will in every possible way seek to help him back to 
a better life. But at the same time he gives him to un¬ 
derstand that the rules of the prison must be obeyed at 
any cost, and that for a second offense the punishment 
will be doubled. He lets the man know that he is to 
be provided for in every possible way, that there is to 
be plenty of food, plenty of clothing, advice, kindness, 
or punishment. He gives him to understand that the 
laws of the prison, like the laws of Nature, cannot with 
impunity be violated, and that a transgression w'ill most 
assuredly be followed with punishment, regardless of 
the man’s former standing in politics, creed, or religion. 

A few words in regard to the punishment of prisoners 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


35. 


may be in place here. When I was first called to the 
penitentiary, during the administration of warden Har¬ 
ley, refractory prisoners were punished by placing them 
in solitary confinement, with a limited supply of bread 
and water for their sustenance. The fearful shrieks of 
some of these men, while thus confined, are still ringing 
in my ears. Others were less demonstrative in their utter¬ 
ances, but were sullen, morose, and rebellious, indulging 
in feelings of bitterness, as they endured the pangs of hun¬ 
ger, and were daily becoming physically, mentally, and 
morally weaker. They were in a measure starved into 
submission, but not conquered, and when they went out 
weakened in body and mind, they often carried within 
their hearts feelings of bitterness and hatred, nourished, 
while there toward the prison authorities whose duty it 
was to administer punishment, that discipline might be 
maintained. I am satisfied this is the feeling frequently 
begotten by the dungeon, by the bread and water treat¬ 
ment. A like spirit is engendered when the man is not 
only placed in solitary confinement, but in. addition is 
compelled to stand with his hands extended above his 
head, or on a level with his shoulders, and manacled 
around iron bars in his cell door, there to remain stand¬ 
ing, sometimes for days, in the one position. After hav¬ 
ing carefully considered many of the methods adopted 
in our reformatories and penal institutions for the refor¬ 
mation and bettering of the condition of these poor un¬ 
unfortunates, I am fully persuaded that severe punish¬ 
ment is not the best means to be employed if the 
object is the reformation of the man, woman, or child who 
has offended; and should not be indulged in, at least 


36 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


until other and more humane methods have been ex¬ 
hausted. 

Punishment in itself is not regenerative. It may ap¬ 
pease the morbid sentimentality of the revengeful man, 
for the time being, without making any good impression 
on the moral nature of the criminal. I have talked with 
many convicts who have undergone severe discipline in 
prison, and almost invariably they have manifested a feel¬ 
ing of bitterness toward the management of the institu¬ 
tion, along with a desire to be revenged. The mere fact 
of having been severely punished does not make the crim¬ 
inal an honest man. The law under which the punish¬ 
ment was executed could touch his body only; so that 
in the very moment of his keenest suffering under the 
penal rod, he may be plotting deeper schemes of crime. 
Punishment per se, is not a regenerator. A recent writer 
says, “Hell itself could not convert men to Christianity. 
It might terrify them; it might impose strong restraints 
upon them, originating in the most uncertain of motives; 
but as to its regenerating men it would be as impotent as 
the passing storm.” Virtue founded on fear is only vice 
in a fit of dejection. Harsh dealing with an offender 
in prison, (as well as outside,) is almost sure to awaken 
a spirit of resentment. The man is already smarting 
under the restraints of prison life, and so is ready to mis¬ 
interpret the motives of the management, as showing a dis¬ 
position on the part of these officials to persecute him. And 
thus a feeling of hostility is frequently awakened, especially 
in the minds of the more vicious class of criminals, which 
feeling may ripen into open concerted opposition on their 
part toward the authorities, causing much trouble. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 37 

If the management could impress these men with the 
idea that the supreme purpose of prison discipline was to 
lift them into a nobler manhood, and thus prepare them 
for liberty and useful citizenship, I am quite sure the 
very best possible results would be obtained. And now 
I am fully satisfied that kind words and humane treat¬ 
ment in dealing with the offender will not only result in 
the greatest possible good to the men themselves but 
will have a salutary effect upon the management as well. 
It is still true that “A soft answer turneth away wrath; 
while grievous words stir up anger.” If we would reach, 
reform, and save men, we must not forget that the most 
potent factor in so doing is the manifesting at all times, 
and in all places, the Christ Spirit. Let gentleness and 
love be united with firmness, in the administration of 
prison discipline; then the management will not be re¬ 
garded as they frequently are by many prisoners, as des¬ 
titute of feeling, and at best, as but pitiless exactors of 
righteousness. The convicts will soon learn to recog¬ 
nize in their keepers a feeling of sympathy and regard 
for them in their unfortunate condition. New thoughts 
will be awakened, and new resolutions formed, by which 
many will be led into a new life. Then I am persuaded 
that those having the charge of reformatory and penal 
institutions should frequently manifest the spirit of for¬ 
giveness toward those over whom they exercise author¬ 
ity. Some men seem to think that it is more manly to 
resent and punish every violation of discipline, real, or 
supposed, and so are always standing on their rights. 

I remember having read a story of a high official in 
England, who once went to Sir Fardley Wilmot, in great 


38 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


wrath, and related to him how he had just received a 
great insult. He closed by asking him if he did not 
think it would be manly to resent it. “Yes,” said the 
judge., “it would be manly to resent it, but it. would be 
God-like to forgive it.” The effect was to change the 
purpose, and cool the anger of the insulted man, I know 
that the law of forgiveness, as taught by the Master, is 
founded on repentance; and yet a close study of the life 
of Christ will show that He was far from being arbi¬ 
trary and mercilessly exacting in dealing with poor un¬ 
fortunate men and women. One day a fallen woman was 
dragged into His presence, brought perhaps by grey- 
bearded men, who dared to come with mock virtue on 
their lips into His sacred presence. When her accusers 
brought her in, they put the question, “Moses in the Law 
commanded that such as her should be stoned, but what 
sayest Thou?” At first He seemed to disregard the ac¬ 
cusation of her accusers. Stooping down, with His finger 
He wrote upon the ground. They did not understand 
the meaning of His silence, and so they pressed their • 
question. “Moses in the Law commanded that such as 
her should be stoned; but what do You say about it?” 
He does not acquit her, at least in their presence, as she 
stands there, perhaps with bowed head and crimson cheek 
revealing the sad story of her shame. But lifting His 
eyes of holy indignation He fixed them upon those piti¬ 
less exactors of the righteousness of. the law and said, 
“Let him that is without sin among you cast the first 
stone.” Conscience-smitten, one after another they sneak 
out of His presence. In seeking judgment upon the 
woman, they found that judgment had been passed upon 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


39 


themselves. And so if we would not be judged, we have 
need to give heed how we judge others. When her ene¬ 
mies have all gone out he turns his attention to the wom¬ 
an, and, I can imagine, with a look of pitying tenderness, 
asks, “Woman, where are those thine accusers? Hath no 
man condemned thee?” She replies, “No man, Lord.” 
Mark. He does not wait for further expressions of peni¬ 
tence upon her part, but immediately replies, “Neither do 
I condemn thee. Go thy way, and sin no, more.” He 
sends her away, clothed with forgiveness, to lead a better 
life ; and teaches by His own blessed example, how men and 
women, everywhere, should deal with the erring and fallen 
ones of earth if they would lift them into newness of life. 

What legal creatures we sometimes are. A boy who 
had done a wrong deed was sentenced by his father to 
live for three days upon bread and water as a punishment. 
For two days the cup of cold- water and plate of dry 
bread was set before him instead of his usual fare. On 
the morning of the third day, his father asked him how 
he liked his fare. “I can eat it very well, papa, but I 
.don’t much like it,” and after standing in silence for a 
few minutes, he looked up, and said, “Can’t you forgive 
me, papa?” “No, sir, I cannot; my word has passed 
and you must take your three days, as I told you.” “But 
can’t you really forgive me, papa?” “No,” was the an¬ 
swer, “I cannot break my word.” “Then, papa, how 
could you say the Lord’s prayer this morning?” The 
father was struck with the child’s reproof, ordered the 
bread and water to be removed, and said with evident 
pleasure, “My boy, you have preached me a better ser¬ 
mon than I ever preacheckin my life.” 


40 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, 


“But,” says an objector, “what shall be done where 
a man persists in violating rules of discipline, and seems 
to be at variance with all law and order, and shows no 
signs of penitence?” Well, as a last resort, punishment 
may have to be meted out. But let it be in the right 
spirit, and from a pure motive, and after a thorough test 
of the better methods. It may be that forgiveness may 
bring about the desired results when all other methods 
have failed. I once read the story of a soldier, in the 
garrison town of Woolwich, who was an incorrigible of¬ 
fender, upon whom every sort of punishment had been 
tried in vain. He was again brought up for trial. He 
had nothing to say but seemed morose and sullen. His 
colonel concluded a few appropriate, well-timed remarks 
by saying, “We have now resolved to forgive you.” The 
sentence was so new and unexpected, that the man com¬ 
pletely broke down and wept profusely. “Forgiven,” was 
entered upon the record, opposite the charge made against 
him. And he was never known to be guilty of any viola¬ 
tion of military rules or discipline afterwards. Mercy 
triumphed. The history of the world shows that Lord 
Bacon expressed a truth when he said, “Generous and 
magnanimous minds are readiest to forgive”; and it is 
a weakness and impotency of mind to be unable to for¬ 


give. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE INDETERMINATE SENTENCE. 

I have frequently been asked to explain the difference 
between the Definite and the Indeterminate Sentences. 
Passing along in front of the long tiers of cells, with their 
iron barred doors, in the prison at Michigan City, you 
will find the name and number of each prisoner in plain 
letters, or figures, on his cell door. Opposite the name 
you will find the number of years stated for which the 
man has been sentenced; if a definite sentence it will read, 
“John Smith, Three years,” or “John Smith, five,” or 
seven, fourteen, or twenty-one years, or for life as the 
case may be. But if the sentence is an indeterminate 
one, it will read, “John Smith, from one to three years,” 
or from one to seven years, or from one, or two, to four¬ 
teen years, as the case may be. A Definite Sentence 
means a definite punishment for a definite crime. 

This theory we are told, had its origin in the ages 
long ago, and has been practiced among the nations of 
the earth all along the centuries. It consisted in giv¬ 
ing the man as good as he sent; or in the taking out 
of an eye for an eye, or knocking out a tooth for a 
tooth. In the olden times, it would seem that the 
injured man was permitted under certain conditions to 
execute vengeance upon his offender; as illustrated in 
the case of the manslayer, and the cities of refuge pro¬ 
vided for his escape from the avenger. But the Christ, 


42 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


the great teacher sent from God, in His sayings on the 
Mount, forbids this manner of procedure, and positively 
enjoins that we shall not render evil for evil. After a 
while men by legislative enactments began to prohibit 
the injured man from taking summary vengeance upon 
the offender, and deliberately set about the task of con¬ 
sidering the nature of the crime, and estimating the 
amount of punishment that would be necessary to meet 
the offense; and then just as deliberately proceeded to 
measure off so much punishment for so much crime. The 
one must be an equivalent for the other; the man must 
be injured as much as he has injured another. This meth¬ 
od of dealing with criminals, while there may be a show 
of justice in it. looks only to the past and so much of 
the future as is thought necessary to meet the penalty for 
the offense. There was no thought for the future well¬ 
being of the criminal or the future well-being of society, 
bound up in the future of the criminal. The relation be¬ 
tween the state and the criminal ceases when the man 
has paid the penalty imposed for his crime. Under the 
definite sentence, the question is simply one of debt and 
credit. 

When we come to examine these two methods ,of 
dealing with offenders, we can but be convinced that the 
indeterminate sentence law, when rightly administered, 
is more humane, and more fully in accord with the di¬ 
vine methods of dealing with erring men. The Inde¬ 
terminate Sentence law makes a direct appeal .to the 
criminal to reform. Under the Definite Sentence law, 
the prisoner knows that at the end of a definite time he 
will be released from prison, even if it is known that he 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


43 


still intends to lead a criminal life. But under the In¬ 
definite Sentence law, he is given to understand that his 
character must be changed before he can be set at liberty. 
The chief question under the Definite Sentence law is, 
What did the man do? But under the Indefinite or In¬ 
determinate Sentence law, the main question is, What is 
he? Or how did he behave himself in a subordinate 
place? And then perhaps a more important one is added, 
What will he be? Or, When will he be changed? It is 
held by those who contend for the Indefinite Sentence, 
that no judge or jury can answer these questions in ad¬ 
vance, and so cannot justly fix the time when the prison¬ 
er should go free, until they have been answered. No 
judicial court can tell just what the effect of imprison¬ 
ment will be in any given case, in five or ten years from 
the time of pronouncing sentence, and so determine just 
when the prisoner should be released from prison. Un¬ 
der the Indeterminate Sentence law the time for his re¬ 
lease is deferred until fitness for the same can be ob¬ 
tained. 

This leads me to speak a word or two in regard to 
those who have charge of our criminal courts and penal 
institutions. The man who is placed in a position where he 
has the power and opportunity of taking away the liberty 
of another should have great wisdom, clear discernment 
and skill in reaching his conclusions and passing his 
judgments. Then again the restoration of the criminal 
to society is if possible a still more important question. 
The knowledge of a criminal’s fitness for society can only 
be determined by those who have an opportunity of stud¬ 
ying him under various circumstances. It is certainly 


44 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


of utmost importance to the state, to society, and to the 
prisoners themselves and indeed to all concerned that 
the men who are to have charge of our reformatories, 
prisons, and public charities of all kinds, should be chosen 
because of their uprightness, integrity, discernment, and 
love of humanity, rather than that they have been the 
willing tools of sordid and selfish politicians in carrying 
out some of their nefarious schemes. I think we are 
all convinced that it is frequently the case, that incom¬ 
petent men, and men who feel no real interest in the 
welfare of the state and community, are placed in posi¬ 
tions of trust and profit, not because they are capable 
or worthy of the place, but simply because they have 
been instrumental in helping, and can still be of use in 
assisting corrupt, ambitious, and self-seeking politicians 
into higher positions. 

At the National Conference of Charities held in De¬ 
troit, Michigan, beginning May 28, 1902, Timothy Nich¬ 
olson of Marion, Indiana, president of the conference, 
and member of the Board of State Charities of Indiana, 
and who also participated in the Indiana State Prison 
investigation, delivered an address in which among other 
important things he said: “The golden age will begin, 
when every state has its nonpartisan board of control 
of state institutions; when partisan politics are wiped 
out of municipal elections; when indeterminate sentences 
and the parole system prevail in prison work; when ju¬ 
venile courts and probation officers are established in all 
cities; when county jails are abolished and work houses 
established ;. when wife beaters and wife deserters are im¬ 
prisoned, and their prison earnings applied to the sup- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 45 

port of their families; when all employers refuse work 
to drunkards; and when institutions and individuals cease 
to pauperize the needy by indiscriminate giving.” 

It is further argued by those who contend for the 
Indeterminate Sentence law, that if a man, because he is 
a criminal, is sent to the penitentiary he ought to be 
kept there until he is made a better man. And if a pris¬ 
oner is not to be released until he has been reformed, 
then it becomes the highest duty of the state to make 
use of the best possible methods for his reformation. 
This is indeed the central thought of the Indeterminate 
Sentence and the Parole law. This being so, the obliga¬ 
tion is imposed upon the management of prisons and 
reformatories to carefully study each and every individ¬ 
ual prisoner. In the family we have learned that it is 
of the utmost importance that parents know the bent 
and inclination of each child, that they may know just 
how to deal with each, that the highest possible good 
may be obtained by all. Now the same skill and dis¬ 
cernment is not only needed but is absolutely necessary 
in dealing with the vast variety of men, women, and chil¬ 
dren gathered into our reformatories and penal institu¬ 
tions. Criminals are in the main diseased members of 
society; they are not to be left to die, then to be deliv¬ 
ered over to the undertaker, but each diseased mind or 
body demands a separate diagnosis, that each one may 
receive just the right kind of treatment. The elder Gough 
used to tell a story of an old style physician who always 
put up his own prescriptions. He kept a large bottle 
on his table, and after prescribing for a patient, if he 
had any of the medicine left he always turned it into the 


46 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

black bottle; so the bottle contained an almost endless 
variety of drugs. There was a little calomel, a little 
rheubarb, a little seina, a little podophyllin, quinine, ar¬ 
senic, strychnia, and almost every other drug known in 
the medical calendar. One day a patient became anxious 
to know just what use he made of the medicine in the 
bottle. “O,” said the doctor, “that is one of the mod 
important preparations I have; it is frequently the case 
that a man comes to me having a complication of dis¬ 
eases. There is heart, trouble, stomach trouble, liver or 
kidney difficulty. Indeed it is hard to tell just what is 
the matter with the man. So I just give him a dose out 
of the black bottle, and that generally fixes him.” 

The defects of one criminal may be physical, of an¬ 
other mental, of another moral, and sometimes a com¬ 
plication of all these maladies may be found in the same 
person. The crime of one person may be caused by a 
lack of moral sense, and of another by a lack of com¬ 
mon sense, hence all will not require the same kind of 
treatment. All cannot be served out of the same , bot¬ 
tle. The Indeterminate Sentence law compels the treat¬ 
ment of criminals not as a whole, but as individuals; 
and those having charge of criminals in our prisons and 
reformatories, will riot have reached the maximum 'of 
their obligations without making a careful study of the 
character, bent, and inclination of each and every in¬ 
dividual prisoner. No one doubts that a criminal like 
Marvin Kuhns, who had escaped from the Ohio peni¬ 
tentiary and was recently captured in Indiana and re¬ 
turned to Columbus, where he is now serving a life sen¬ 
tence for the crime of murder, a man who was noted 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 47 

for his daring de^ls of crime, a man who seemed to 
have inherited a criminal nature, (if such a thing is pos¬ 
sible), from a long line of horse thieves, counterfeiters, 
and burglars, should receive different treatment from one 
who fell by accident and is not at heart a criminal. Un¬ 
der the Definite Sentence law all are treated alike so far 
as food and raiment are concerned, the only difference 
being in the length of the time of their confinement. One 
has said that when the treatment of a prisoner depends 
upon his present character, and not upon a single act of 
the past the adjustment will be more intelligent. 

One of the objections urged against the Indetermi¬ 
nate Sentence is that it places too much power in the 
hands of the executive officers, but it should be remem¬ 
bered that the board of control does not take away any 
legal rights of the prisoner; he forfeited those rights 
when he committed the crime. He was adjudged guilty, 
and deprived of his liberty by a sentence from the court. 
The restoration of his liberty is incidentally important 
to himself but is of much more importance to the com¬ 
munity into which he goes. The matter is therefore left 
where it rightly belongs—in the hands of those best 
qualified to judge whether or not the man should be al¬ 
lowed to go free. Depriving a man of his liberty is a 
judicial act, but the restoration of that liberty is an ex¬ 
ecutive act. The demands of justice are not fully met 
by the imprisonment of a criminal so long as he remains 
a criminal at heart. These demands are' only met when 
the wrong doer becomes a right doer. When a man 
has given full proof of his purpose to live as he should, 
and is discharged because of such purpose, he’ is merely 


48 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

treated justly. Warren Spaulding, secretary of the Mass¬ 
achusetts Prison Association, says, “The Indetermin¬ 
ate Sentence lies in two things. First, in the better re¬ 
sults obtained where it has been tried, or has had a lair 
trial. And second, in the intelligence of the people in 
regard to crime and its punishment.” 

The old theories in regard to crime and its punish¬ 
ment are losing their hold, and new ones, based on cer¬ 
tain propositions are claiming attention and becoming 
generally held. Among these propositions are such as 
these: that punishment should be made to fit the crime 
rather than the criminal; that character, rather than a 
single act, should be made the ground of treatment; that 
a single act is not proof positive of the criminality of 
the offender; that the criminal has forfeited his right to 
liberty, not for a definite time fixed in advance as a pen¬ 
alty for a single act, but until such time as he shall cease 
to have a criminal character; that this cannot be deter¬ 
mined before the convict begins his imprisonment, and 
that his release should be conditional, so he can be re¬ 
turned if it is found that his reformation is not complete, 
and that in the course of time when his reformation 
has been proven satisfactory he shall be fully dis¬ 
charged. 

For years it has been the custom in this and other 
countries to define by law certain acts as crimes, and 
then to affix a definite penalty, in accordance with the 
supposed guilt or innocence of the offender. When we 
come to consider the penal codes of our ancestors we 
are forced to the conclusion that they must have been 
terrible in the extreme. The death penalty was imposed 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 49 

for almost every felonious act, and for minor offences 
men forfeited their lands or chattels, others were ban¬ 
ished, while still others were sent to the pillory or whip¬ 
ping post. Under educational and Christian influences, 
great changes have been made in the criminal codes of 
this and other countries during the last century. In the 
early settlements of the territories apd states, lynchings 
were no uncommon thing, and were not regarded with 
the disfavor they are now. Some years ago while travel¬ 
ing in southern Kansas I stopped for a few hours in a 
frontier town near the line of the Indian territory, and 
while there had pointed out to me a large oak tree where 
a few mornings before three men were found hanging 
to a limb by their necks, and the man who gave me 
the information said it was no uncommon occurrence 
in that country, and that it was the work of a vigil¬ 
ance committee composed of the better class of citi¬ 
zens. In the early part of the last century many 
crimes were followed with the death penalty under the 
sanction of law, and lynchings in many instances were 
thought to be the proper thing; horse stealing and coun-‘ 
terfeiting were often punished in this summary way. 
Amos Butler, secretary of the Board of State Charities, 
tells of a man in Dearborn County, Indiana, who struck 
a judge with a piece of clapboard, was tried, found guilty, 
and punished by being confined in a prison made of logs 
and rails by having his neck placed between two logs 
composing one side of the building; and of another man 
who was fined and given thirty lashes for taking an ax. 
And that in Clark County, Indiana, a man by the name 
of Ingram was tried for horse stealing, was' convicted 


50 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

by a jury, and the order book shows that the judge 
then entered the following sentence: 

That John Ingram be remanded to jail, 
until Friday, December first, when between 
the hours of eleven o’clock A. M., and one 
o’clock P. M., he be taken out and hanged 
by the neck until he is dead—dead—dead. 

Prisons at that time were built and looked upon al¬ 
most exclusively as places where men charged with crime 
might be secured until they were tried, and if they were 
found guilty might receive punishment. But as men 
became more enlightened, and more familiar with the 
teachings of the Master along these lines, they became 
more humane and the death penalty became less frequent, 
and imprisonment for a specified time became the rule. 
But this theory it is thought was the result of convene 
ence, rather than a conviction that'it served a better pur¬ 
pose. Most of the states at the present time impose im¬ 
prisonment for nearly every offence. They forbid spec- 
ifying a minimum and a maximum period, leaving the 
judge trying the case to fix the time of imprisonment 
according to his view of the convict’s deserts. This 
method of punishment for criminal acts is held by those 
who contend for the indeterminate sentence as absurd 
in principle, and grossly wrong in practice. 

Charlton T. Lewis, president of the Prison Associa¬ 
tion of New York, says that this theory is founded on 
the false notion that the state can and ought to appor¬ 
tion retribution for offences; and that it requires of every 
criminal judge an utter impossibility, and results in start¬ 
ling inequalities, whenever an attempt is made to apply 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


51 


it, and that it does not effectively promote the sole end 
of criminal law, namely, the protection of society. He 
further says that there are two conceivable ways of pro¬ 
tecting the community against its enemy, the criminal; 
either to disarm him or to reconcile him. But the def¬ 
inite sentence does neither; it only retains the criminal 
until his term ends. It is, he says, as if a man should 
cage a man-eating tiger for a month, or a year, and then 
turn him loose. There is nothing in such a sentence 
which tends to reconcile him to his fellows. It aims at 
nothing more than to restrain him and to hold him in 
safety until the end of his term, and in most cases he 
is discharged more the foe of mankind than before. I 
am persuaded that the most considerate plan in dealing 
with criminals is not in following the penal codes of our 
ancestors who seemed to ignore the possibility of the 
reformation of the criminal; nor is it in following the 
more recent code which is still in practice in many places, 
namely, that of imposing the definite sentence for almost 
every offence. Mr. Lewis says of it, “Any penal code 
which attempts to inflict punishments commensurate with 
offences has this for its inspiration and its source, and 
is but organized lynch law.” 

Chaplain D. T. Starr, of the Ohio penitentiary, in 
an article published in the Western Christian Advocate 
some time ago, says, “The foundation upon which the 
Indeterminate Sentence stands is that the object of im¬ 
prisonment is the necessary protection of society, either 
by disarming the criminal, or by his cure.” The former 
often leads to the latter. So long as the confinement 
of the offender is necessary for the protection of society, 


52 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


he must be deprived of his freedom, he must be prevented 
from a repetition of his crime. He should be released 
from confinement only when he will be a safe member 
of society, without regard to the time limit. When he is 
restored in character, and not till then, should the rights 
of freedom be restored to him. It is a probation in prison 
as well as out of prison. This system is working out the 
most beneficial results. It is a God-given appeal to the 
manhood of man, and its challenge to his moral nature 
meets with no uncertain response, and it gives the crimi¬ 
nal to understand that society is not his enemy, that the 
state is his friend, and seeks his release, and that his own 
evil self is his destroyer, depriving him ^bf his God-given 
right to go free. Such conviction is frequently followed 
by conversion. It is the gospel in law, and would seem 
to harmonize with the proclaiming of liberty to the cap¬ 
tive as brought by Jesus, in such a way as to soon become 
the providential method of opening the prison doors to 
those who are bound. Under the definite sentence, crimi¬ 
nals are discharged by the time limit, and frequently go 
out as vicious and hostile to society as they were when 
they entered the prison, and purposing (and sometimes 
this purpose is known) to commit crime. Chaplain Starr 
tells of a convict in the Ohio Penitentiary who was im¬ 
prisoned for attempting the murder of his wife. He was 
released on the expiration of his sentence, went home, 
killed his wife, and was brought back and executed. He 
says that under the Indeterminate Sentence law such a 
thing could hardly occur. The operation of this system 
he says has been salutary every way, and is found appli¬ 
cable to all classes except life convicts and those under 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


53 


sentence of death. An insane person is imprisoned until 
he is cured, and why should not the convict be so con¬ 
ditioned? This method of imposing a retributive penalty, 
according to the degree of guilt, is out of harmony with 
the teachings of Christianity and the highest moral senti¬ 
ment of the age. It only retains its place in society by 
the tenacity of long tradition, and the natural disposition 
of man to return evil for evil. It is but the instinct of 
the beast, whose brutal nature seeks to hurt those who 
hurt him. The satisfaction gained by inflicting punish¬ 
ment in proportion to our estimate of guilt is no more 
rational than that of the man who in a heat of passion 
follows his hat on a windy day, and when overtaking it 
stamps it to the earth, or who sets about kicking the plow 
because it strikes a rock. 

When this thirst for revenge on the part of the human 
animal actuates a state or a community, and is embodied 
in legislative enactments, and is executed in so-called halls 
of justice, by judicial acts, it is to some extent disguised, 
and its coarseness does not appear so flagrant, and the 
disturbance of civil order as in private feuds is to some 
extent averted. But the character of the act is not 
changed bv the number of those who commit it. The com¬ 
munity which deliberately injures a man because he has 
offended, is at least as brutal and irrational as the man or 
beast who impatiently avenges a wrong. Prisons no 
doubt are necessary to society for the reformation of 
the prisoner. In the prison he is disarmed; there let 
him remain until he is reformed or reconciled. If he 
is dangerous to the community and cannot be trusted 
witn his freedom, then must he be retained in prison 


54 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


and so prevented from practicing crime. This is the only 
justification for his imprisonment. The indeterminate 
sentence provides that such a one shall be placed in con¬ 
finement where he is to be treated in such a manner as 
to prepare him, if possible, for his freedom; his confine¬ 
ment must last just as long, and no longer than he re¬ 
mains criminal at heart. In this way the community is 
protected, and the man in durance is furnished with an 
opportunity, as well as the highest possible motives, to 
put forth his very best efforts to reform and build for 
himself a character that will prepare him for his liberty. 
Thus the man becomes the arbiter of his own fate and 
carries in his own bosom the key that unlocks his prison 
door. He is continually reminded by all his surround¬ 
ings, both by day and by night, that he must work out 
his own salvation. If the criminal has not lost all moral 
sensibility; if there remains a single spark of manliness 
in his bosom, these remnants of better days are appealed 
to by the judicious and wise management of prisons, if 
these are what they should be. There is awakened in 
the minds of many a longing desire, which, joined with 
expectation, begets a feeble hope, as the days, weeks, 
and months go by. Great battles are fought in prison 
cells, enemies are dislodged, and victories won. We look 
with admiration upon the brave men in South Africa, 
who in their might rose against the oppressor and, like 
our forefathers, pledged themselves, each to the other, 
fighting even to death rather than live under British rule. 
Their bravery, their heroism, called forth the admira¬ 
tion of the world, and became a noble theme for elo¬ 
quence and song. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


55 


Let us not forget, that in the revelation God has 
given, it is declared, “That he that ruleth his own spir¬ 
it is greater than he that taketh a city.” Surely it ought 
to be no less an inspiration to every lover of humanity, 
when they look upon a band of prison convicts, whose 
hearts and lives were once withered and torn under the 
blighting influence of evil passions, and made desolate by 
brutal impulses and unnamable lusts, are now struggling 
in silence to put down these tyrants, who have laid waste 
the noblest heritage of God, and are now, with fearful 
odds against them, struggling in silence, seeking for 
themselves the restoration of their lost manhood; that 
they may once more mingle in the associations of men, 
and breathe again the free air of heaven. The outside 
world knows but littl-e of the earnest efforts put forth 
by many convicts in their attempt to change their hab¬ 
its of life. An old prisoner said to me one day, “It is 
no great hardship for me to submit to the prison au¬ 
thorities. Most of my life I have been a soldier in the 
regular army and have learned that the best results are 
to be obtained by obedience to orders, so it has become 
a pleasure for me to obey.” Many of these men have 
never learned this lesson of obedience. They have lived 
out of harmony with society and with themselves. They 
have never learned to rule their own spirits because they 
have never ‘learned to obey. These lessons must be 
learned before the demands of the Indeterminate Sen¬ 
tence and Parole law are met. That these results may 
be effected has been proved in very many instances; but 
it is a work that requires the highest qualifications of 
trained intelligence, along with patience almost divine. 


56 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

The prison must become a reformatory in the fullest 
sense of the word, and must embrace the purposes of 
hospital, * school, and church, for the healing of body, 
mind, and soul. It is often the case that the convict has 
had no training in any honest pursuit, and to send him 
out into the world in this condition, is to place him un¬ 
der pressure to return to the only pursuit he knows, that 
of a course of crime. 

Mr, Wines says, “In order that the best results may 
be obtained under the Indeterminate Sentence Law, it is 
important that we have the right men in the right place, 
then there will be right administration.” One great 
trouble is, that legislators do not understand it, so they 
bungle the act in passing it. The executive department 
of the state government does not understand it and so 
it bungles the administration of the system. Mr. Wines 
says, “So long as politicians continue to put into our 
prisons, as members of our prison boards and as prison 
officials, men who are incapable of administering the 
parole system in the spirit in which it was conceived by 
its authors and advocates, the outlook for the best re¬ 
sults from its adoption is less hopeful than it would oth¬ 
erwise be.” The parole system changes the relations of 
the prisoner to all the agents of society who deal with 
him. The aim is no longer to hold him in subjection as 
the mere slave of the state during, the allotted term, then 
to be discharged of all responsibility for him, but they 
have before them the definite purpose of preparing him 
for freedom. The spirit of the institution undergoes a 
wonderful change when the reformatory idea supplants 
that of punishment. The prison of the old style faces 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


57 


the past and forever looks backward to the crime com¬ 
mitted. The true reformatory has turned its face to the 
future, and is a prophecy of better days. One has said 
that on the one is inscribed, “Leave all hope behind, ye 
that enter here.” On the other, “Never despair; seek, 
and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you.” 

After a careful study of the men inside the prison 
walls, for several years as opportunity offered, I am con¬ 
vinced that there are some natures fearfully depraved, 
and so degraded that appeals made to their manhood 
seem to be unavailing. They appear to be, and perhaps 
are, constitutional criminals. The language of Jeremiah 
seems appropriate, when he asked the question, “Can the 
Ethiopian change his skin, and the leopard his spots?” 
Then may these also do good that have become so ac¬ 
customed to do evil. Many of them have learned to 
call evil good, and good evil. These men cannot be 
turned loose to prey upon society. Who is responsible 
for their condition ? I am led to think, after a careful study 
of the old methods of dealing with criminals, that our 
penal institutions have had much to do in helping make 
these men what they are. A definite sentence was given 
these men for either a long or short period according 
to their supposed guilt, and at the expiration of their 
sentence they were given their liberty, in many instances 
going out to continue their criminal course until they 
were again arrested, it may have been for worse crimes. 
It is folly to release such men. Let them remain in 
prison until they are fit for liberty. We must despair of 
none so long as God lets them live. Let the most de¬ 
praved be brought to feel there is hope if they can only 


58 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


embrace it; but let none go free until they can be trusted 
with their freedom. Hon. C. T. Lewis says, “If impris¬ 
onment for crime is to be practiced the only rational 
and useful form for it is under sentence terminable al¬ 
ways and only by the prisoner’s own recovery from that 
which has made it necessary.” 

It may not be amiss for me to notice some of the ob¬ 
jections urged against the indefinite sentence and reform 
methods. On returning from the prison one Monday 
morning, I was confronted by a man who expressed great 
dissatisfaction because of the methods used in the treat¬ 
ment of prisoners. He said he thought we were putting 
a premium on crime, by the kindness and care shown 
them. He said it looked to him as if these men were 
being rewarded for their dishonesty, cruelty, and lust, by 
being afforded opportunities and resources, such as com¬ 
mon laborers could not command. He spoke especially 
about the school, the well supplied tables, and the bath 
room, as a premium on crime, where, as he said, they 
ought to be made to suffer. It was the old theory so 
often repeated, that prisons were built and maintained for 
the sole purpose of keeping in durance, and punishing 
violators of law, rather than seeking their reformation. 
If imprisonment is a necessity that men may be retained 
and kept from criminal acts, then somebody must be 
vested with power to determine how they shall be. treated 
during their confinement. And the only question to be 
decided is, How can the best results be obtained for 
bringing about their reformation? Surely those who have 
made a study of criminology and familiarized themselves 
with the practical workings of penal jurisprudence are 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OE i'RISON LIFE. 59 

more capable of judging as to the best methods to be 
employed for the reformation of these men, than those 
who have never given these methods more than a pass¬ 
ing thought. Great difficulties are always experienced 
by those who would effect a reformation among the fallen 
ones in prisons and elsewhere, under system. But that 
difficulty amounts to an utter impossibility where cur¬ 
rent systems of retribution are alone resorted to. 

Another question frequently asked by the opposition 
to the Indeterminate Sentence law is, How can we dis¬ 
tinguish the time when the indeterminate sentence be¬ 
comes determinate? Who can rightly administer it? 
Who can understand the hearts of men and so determine 
between the true and false motives of those under their 
charge? Who has the wisdom and knowledge to detect 
the honest purpose of the criminal from that of mere pre¬ 
tense and cunning? Who can upon his own judgment, 
or that of others, take the responsibility of deciding upon 
his fellow-man’s nature, and so fix his doom? These 
questions involve the most difficult problems imposed 
upon the human mind. To settle these questions and 
not make mistakes is beyond the power of any man or 
body of men. The reformatory methods in dealing with 
criminals will always be attended with more or less er¬ 
rors, because we cannot discern just what is the pur¬ 
pose of the cunning-hearted felon, and because of this 
mistakes will unavoidably be made. Hon. C. T. Lewis 
in speaking on this subject says, “The felon of strong 
mind and deep cunning may impose on experienced keep¬ 
ers; the defected man of unbridled passion may impress 
them deeply with his moral worth during a crisis of re- 


60 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


pentance, while the real aspirant for manhood may stum¬ 
ble and fall countless times in his efforts, and thus the 
less worthy may obtain the earliest release. The force 
of the objection must be admitted without resource. It 
is a fearful necessity that is thrown upon the state to 
exercise such a prerogative through fallible agents.” He 
argues that the same objection would, apply to every 
method of restraining criminals; and that it applies with 
much greater force to the traditional system of retribu¬ 
tion, than to the scientific system of reformation. 

The objections so often urged against the indetermin¬ 
ate sentence and its workings, when carefully examined 
become a strong plea .for its adoption. Under the old 
system of retributive punishment, (which system is still 
being followed in many places,) for every offense, it must 
be conceded that much needless suffering and hardship 
was endured by those confined in prisons and reforma¬ 
tories. Unequal and oppressive restraints were frequent¬ 
ly imposed, because of the caprice, ignorance, and errors 
of judicial tribunals, who were called to pass judgment 
on a man’s character by a single act of his past life, and 
then impose upon him a definite sentence for a term of 
years. These wrongs would be greatly reduced by an 
immediate and universal adoption of the general reform¬ 
atory sentence system, and a wise administration of the 
same. The tendency of the mind and conscience among 
students of criminal science everywhere is toward short¬ 
ening the term of imprisonment, and under the Indeter¬ 
minate Sentence law carefully studying each and every 
individual character, and wherever is found a convict who 
gives evidence of true repentance and genuine reform 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


61 


give him a trial, by placing him on the parole list, that 
he may have once more the opportunity of asserting his 
manhood and rights of citizenship. The natures that 
manifest a disposition towards lawlessness, are to be care¬ 
fully and patiently studied, that they may be brought 
under social and moral influences such as a true brother¬ 
hood only can exert, while those who are obstinate, re¬ 
bellious, or dangerous must be kept in confinement where 
they will not have an opportunity to prey upon society, 
or, as one has said, to reproduce their kind. 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE PAROLE LAW, AND ITS WORKINGS. 

Just how to deal with prisoners or criminals, in such 
a way that the best possible results may be obtained for 
the state and the community and that the highest inter¬ 
ests of the prisoners themselves may be subserved has 
for long years been a problem difficult to solve. Some 
of the most intelligent men of the nation, having the in¬ 
terests of humanity at heart, and who have made a most 
thorough study of the subject of criminology and the 
methods of dealing with criminals in our penal institu¬ 
tions and elsewhere, have become fully convinced that 
there exists a great necessity for reform in dealing with 
this large class of unfortunates. 

Until recent years but little attention has been paid 
by the great mass of mankind to the men, women, and 
children, lodged in our reformatories and penal institu¬ 
tions, beyond having them arrested, tried, and, if found 
guilty, sentenced to some penal institution to serve out 
a definite period of time, and then to be discharged in 
many instances as bad as, if not worse than when they 
entered there. The main object of the state seemed to 
be that of imposing punitive law rather than the refor¬ 
mation of the criminal. The men are thrown into prison 
and compelled to work that they might earn money for 
the state. The more money they earned the better prison¬ 
ers they became for the institution and the management. 
There was but little thought for the welfare of the prison- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 63 

er, either physically, mentally, or morally. But a better 
day seems to be dawning upon our world in this respect, 
as seen in our national and international prison con¬ 
gresses which are being held throughout the civilized 
world. These congresses are composed of delegates 
selected because of their interest in and knowledge of 
criminals, crime and its cure. They meet at stated times 
and places designated that they may compare notes, 
weigh results, and devise plans for the betterment of the 
condition of the fallen ones. 

Over thirty-two years ago, the National Prison Con¬ 
gress of the United States was organized in the city of 
Cincinnati, O. Hon. Rutherford B. Hayes, at that time 
governor of the state, and afterwards chosen president 
of the United States, became first president of the Na¬ 
tional Prison Congress, and held the office for ten years. 
He continued one of the controlling and sustaining spir¬ 
its of this growing reform movement until the close of 
his life. The original purpose of the National Prison 
Congress, was to devise some more humane system for 
the management. and care of convicts, and where it is 
possible, for their reformation. This original purpose 
has grown until it has come to include preventative as 
well as restorative proclivities. To-day charitable and 
benevolent organizations are being erected and success¬ 
fully operated for the prevention of children and others 
from becoming criminals. Through the united efforts 
of these prison congresses, our criminal institutions are 
becoming places for the reformation of convicts, so they 
may once more be restored to society and citizenship. 
And where reformation cannot be effected they may be 


64 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

kept in security, so that their own and the best interests 
of the state and society may be subserved. 

To this end legislative bodies have been and are be¬ 
ing importuned in regard to the necessity of securing 
better legislation in behalf of prisons and their manage¬ 
ment. By efforts of this kind, during the winter of 1895 
a committee was appointed by the Indiana Legislature 
to examine the laws that were on the statute books at 
that time, in the states of New York, Illinois, Minnesota, 
and other states that were then working under the In¬ 
determinate Sentence and Parole Law. Assisted by the 
management of those who had charge of those institu¬ 
tions in the different states, the committee did its work 
so well, that it was fully prepared to make its report to 
the Legislature in the month of January, 1897. This re¬ 
port was so convincing because of the successful work¬ 
ings of the Indeterminate Sentence and Parole Law sys¬ 
tem in these states that the Legislature was immediately 
led to draft the law under which the penal institutions 
and reformatories of the state of Indiana are now work¬ 
ing. This law was approved by the Legislature of the 
state, March 8, 1897. 

Along with these legislative enactments, there came 
a change, in the names, and to some extent, in the na¬ 
ture, of our penal institutions. The State Prison North 
took the name of the Indiana State Prison and at the 
same time took upon itself more of the nature of a re¬ 
formatory. The Indiana State Prison South took the 
name of the Indiana Reformatory. Prior to the pas¬ 
sage of the Indeterminate Sentence and Parole Law a 
boundary line running east and west, near the center of 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 65 

the state, decided whether the prisoner would be sent 
north to Michigan City, or south to Jeffersonville. This 
method of disposing of criminals was followed regard¬ 
less of the nature of the crime committed, or the num¬ 
ber of times the man had been incarcerated before. The 
result was that boys and young men, convicted of minor 
offences, and for the first time, were thrown into the 
same prison, and were frequently confined in the same 
cell with hardened criminals; and after serving a definite 
term of years, and without any special efforts being made 
for their moral improvement, they were frequently dis¬ 
charged at the end of their sentence graduates in crime. 
The passage of the Indefinite Sentence and Parole Laws 
in 1897 led to the classification of criminals; and all per¬ 
sons who were over thirty years of age, and those who 
had been sentenced for life or treason, or hardened crim¬ 
inals, who had served more than one term in prison were 
sent north to the Indiana State Prison at Michigan City; 
while all under thirty years of age were sent to the In¬ 
diana Reformatory at Jeffersonville. Soon after the pas¬ 
sage of the new law, the management of the two institu¬ 
tions set about providing new regulations and a better 
system of government for both these and other chari¬ 
table and benevolent institutions of the state, and though 
these laws are far from being faultless, they are a great 
advance over the old laws and methods. 

The Indeterminate Sentence and the Parole Systems 
are closely connected; indeed, the latter is the result of 
the former. There could be no Parole Law without the 
Indefinite Sentence, which fixes a minimum and max¬ 
imum term of years according to the supposed guilt of 


66 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


the criminal; ranging from one to three years for minor 
offences; and from one to fourteen, or from two to four¬ 
teen, or twenty-one years according to the nature of the 
man’s crime. For the Indiana State Prison at Michigan 
City, and the State Reformatory at Jeffersonville, the 
board of control has established three grades of prison¬ 
ers. All prisoners on reaching the prison are supposed 
to be in the second grade and are so entered. A little 
booklet of eight pages, published by Geo. A. H. Shidler 
while serving as warden of the Indiana State Prison, en¬ 
titled “Information Concerning the Parole Law and its 
Rules,” which booklet was approved by the Parole Board, 
March 2, 1900, is of great value to the prisoner, as it 
serves to point out the course of conduct to be pursued 
that the highest possible good may come to himself dur¬ 
ing his confinement, and result in securing his parole 
when the proper time may come. A copy of this book 
is given to every prisoner when he enters the prison, with 
instructions to study the same. From this source I have 
gathered some information, which I am sure will be help- , 
ful to those wishing to learn the method of dealing with 
this large class of unfortunates, not only in this state, but 
in similar institutions in other states, where the Parole 
Law and Indefinite Sentence are in vogue. From it we 
learn the grade of a prisoner may be lost: First, by 
such violation of prison rules as shall make it neces¬ 
sary to place him in solitary confinement. Second, for 
general disobedience or disorderly conduct. Third, for 
habitual laziness, being untidy or negligent. Fourth, at 
the direction of the Board of Control, the Warden, or 
the Deputy. 


ILLUSTRATION OF GRADES 







































«» 










* 













































































































































































































LIGHTS A:;D SHALZS CZ rniSDN LIFE. 69 

First grade prisoners are dressed in grey uniform 
and are entitled to certain privileges, such as eating at 
what is known as the first grade dining table, at which 
the table service and a variety of food are the distinct¬ 
ive features, with the privilege of writing one letter 
every alternate Sunday, of receiving visits from friends 
once every two weeks, and of receiving such letters and 
weekly papers as the warden may approve, also of smok¬ 
ing or chewing in their cells in the evening, of wearing 
mustache, which must be neatly trimmed from time to 
time, with such other additional privileges and immuni¬ 
ties as may be considered safe to grant them as a special 
reward for the right kind of conduct, always keeping in 
view the best interests of discipline and good order. 

Second grade prisoners are distinguished from the 
first grade by wearing plaid suits and are entitled to re¬ 
ceive certain privileges, such as receiving visits from 
friends once a month, of writing letters on the fourth 
Sunday of each month, of smoking and chewing in their 
cells in the evening, and other privileges in the dining 
room and elsewhere as the warden may think best. Aft¬ 
er having maintained a perfect record for three consec¬ 
utive months, prisoners of this class will be advanced to 
the first grade with all its privileges. 

Third grade men are such as have violated some of 
the laws or rules regulating the government of the pris¬ 
on, and are dressed in striped clothing. This grade of 
men are not allowed to receive visits from friends, nor 
to write letters except on matters of great importance, 
and then only by permission of the warden. They are 
not permitted to receive newspapers, nor any outside 


70 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

news whatever, except by the warden’s permission; they 
are deprived of the use of tobacco. They are given 
plenty of substantial food, but less variety than the first 
and second grade men. They may be deprived of other 
privileges if considered for the best interests of the good 
order and discipline of the prison. Prisoners in the 
third grade are eligible to promotion to the second grade 
after they have maintained a perfect record for three 
consecutive months. 

Parole Regulations. 

After having served out the minimum sentence, un¬ 
der the Indeterminate Sentence Law, all prisoners, if 
they have maintained a perfect record for six consecu¬ 
tive months are eligible to parole, upon the recommen¬ 
dation of the warden of the prison, or upon the applica¬ 
tion of prisoner for parole, and where there is reason 
to believe that such prisoner will conduct himself in har¬ 
mony with the provisions of the Parole Law. But his 
release will still be conditioned upon such terms as the 
Board of Parole may prescribe. After a prisoner is 
paroled he is still under the legal custody of the war¬ 
den and agent of the prison from which he is paroled, 
until the expiration of the maximum term specified, or 
until he has earned his discharge. Before being granted 
a parole, the prisoner appears before the Parole Board, 
where his past record is reviewed. This review includes 
a close study of. his character, tendencies, and general 
habits of life while in prison, as well as his previous his¬ 
tory. The nature and circumstances of his crime are es- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


71 


pecially considered, and where it is possible a statement 
has been secured from the judge and prosecuting attor¬ 
ney, where the man was tried, and the man himself is 
closely questioned as to his past record. If it is found 
that he has led a criminal life and that he has served 
other sentences his case will not be favorably considered 
by the Board; but he will be returned to his work or cell 
to serve a longer period, not knowing just when he will 
have another opportunity for going before the Board. 

But if on the other hand it is found that this was the 
man’s first offence, and that the judge and prosecuting 
attorney who tried his case, are favorable tf his parole, 
and all the evidence is such as to justify the Board in 
the belief that the man will once more become a useful 
citizen, they will parole him. Employment must then be 
secured for him, either by himself, or by the prison of¬ 
ficials. Sometimes this is found among his own people, 
where they are responsible; if they are not, then the man¬ 
agement will find places among farmers, or in factories 
and elsewhere as opportunity may offer. The person 
giving employment to a paroled man must sign a writ- 
ten agreement in which he sets forth that he is able and 
willing to employ such prisoner until he receives his final 
discharge (which will be at the pleasure of the Board, 
but not less than twelve months from the date of his 
parole); to keep him steadily employed and to pay him 
a certain specified sum, either by the day or the month, 
as the case may be, for his services. He also promises 
to take a friendly interest in said person, to counsel and 
direct him in that which is good, and to promptly re¬ 
port to the warden or state agent of the prison any un- 


72 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


necessary absence from work, any tendency to low as¬ 
sociations, or any violation of the conditions of his pa¬ 
role. He further promises to see that he forwards his 
monthly report to the warden of the prison on the first 
of each month, with his certificate of its correctness. 
When making an application to the prison board for a 
paroled man, the applicant must secure the signature of 
the County Judge, the Clerk of the Court, or some one 
known to some member of the Board of Commission¬ 
ers, certifying that the applicant is a proper and capable 
person to have the care and supervision of said paroled 
man. 

Parole Agreement. 

First, When a prisoner is released on parole he must 
at once proceed to the place of his employment and re¬ 
port to his employer. Second, Upon reporting to his 
employer, he shall immediately make out a written re¬ 
port, addressed to the state agent, telling of his arrival 
at his destination, which report must be signed by his 
employer. Third, He must not change nor leave his em¬ 
ployment, unless by order, or upon permission from the 
Board, obtained in writing. Fourth, On the first day of 
each month, the paroled man must make out a written 
report for the preceding month. This report must 
show how much money he had at the beginning and 
how much he has earned during the month; how much 
he has paid out and how much he has on hand at the 
end of the month. If the man has been idle during the 
month he must state the reason. He must state where 
he has spent his evenings; how many times he has at¬ 
tended church and where. Fifth,' He must refrain from 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


73 


the use of liquor in any form and avoid all evil associa¬ 
tions and improper places of amusement. Sixth, He 
must cheerfully obey the laws and conduct himself in all 
respects as a good citizen. Seventh, In the event of sick¬ 
ness, or loss of his position, from any cause whatever, 
he must immediately report the fact to the board, or 
have this report made for him. The above report must 
be endorsed by his employer. The following statement 
is given along with each parole and signed by the proper 
persons: 

KNOW ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS, 
That the Board of Commissioners of Pa¬ 
roled Prisoners of the Indiana State Prison, 

desiring to test the ability of., a 

prisoner in the Indiana State Prison at 
Michigan City, to abstain from crime and 
to lead an upright, frugal, and industrious 
life, do, by these presents, parole the said 

. and permit him to go outside 

the enclosure of the said prison as an em¬ 
ploye of Mr. at . 

employed as ., until he receives 

notice in writing from the Board of Com¬ 
missioners of said prison to the effect that 
he has been finally discharged. The said 

. shall carefully and cheerfully 

obey all the foregoing rules governing the 
conduct of prisoners while on parole. 

Given in duplicate, this ., day 

of.19. 

Board of Commissioners of Paroled prison¬ 
ers of Indiana. 

3 v . President. 

' . Clerk. 

L .an inmate of the Indiana 














74 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


State Prison, hereby declare that I have 
carefully read, and do clearly understand 
the contents and conditions of the above 
rules regulating the Parole of Prisoners, 
and the above agreement, and I hereby ac¬ 
cept the same, and do hereby pledge myself 
to honestly comply with all said conditions. 

Signed in triplicate, this . day 

of. . . 19. .. 


A list of the prisoners who are eligible to a parole, 
is prepared each month by the management of the prison 
before the meeting of the Board of Parole, and a special 
statement is prepared showing the criminal status of 
each individual prisoner, a copy of which statement is 
given to each member of the Board at the time of its 
assembling, and so each member of the Board has the 
opportunity of carefully studying each individual case 
that comes before it. This report contains the following 
items in a tabulated form, as given below: 




LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


75 


Statistics for April 30, 1902. 


Number authorized for parole, . .. 



• 530 

revoked . 

. 6 



awaiting employment, . . 

. 7 

13 

530 

released on parole,. 

. 5 i 7 



returned for violation, . . 

. 35 



delinquent and at large,. 

. 40 

75 


discharged, . 




* sentence expired, . 

. 48 



“ died, . 

. 9 

271 


reporting monthly, . 

. 164 



reporting quarterly, . .. . 

. 7 

171 

530 

Per cent of violations to date, 14.15. 



No. reports for April not in, 2. 




Earnings for April . 

.. $4,660.43 



Expenses for April. 

.. 3,162.88 



Net earnings for April. 


$1,507.55 

Total earnings to date, . 

$103,386.30 



Total expenses to date, . 

75.582.11 



Net earnings to date,. 


$27,804.19 


Indiana State Prison. 

Board of Parole 

. Meeting, 1902. 

Case for Consideration. 

Name, Edward E. Porks. No. 1818. Age.... Col. 

Crime . 

County sent from ..Date of Crime .. 

Date of sentence . Term. 

Min. Exp. Max. Exp. 

Residence . . 

Occupation ... . 

Criminal History . 


Family History 

and . 

Correspondence 







































76 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS 

Trial by. Before Hon. 


Judge thinks he should.be Paroled. . . . 

Pros. Attv. thinks he should.be Paroled 

Transferred from Refm. 

Refm. Record . . 

Prison Record .. 

Physical Condition . 

Mental Condition. 

State Agent’s Report .. 

Employment offered by .. 

Action of Board. 

Moved by Mr...Seconded by Mr.. 

Parole, Reject. Continue.Days. 

Remarks ... : . 
























PRISONERS WHO HAVE FORFEITED FAROLE. 




PRISONERS WHO HAVE FORFEITED PAROLE. 




















- 

w 
































































’ 

. 

' 

’ 


' 


























\ 












































.. 



























CHAPTER V. 


GOING BACK TO PRISON AND WHY. 

It is not an uncommon thing for prisoners after being 
released from the reformatory or the penitenitary at the 
expiration of their sentence or on parole, to be returned 
to prison again. The discharged prisoner has not in all 
cases been reformed, and goes out to be convicted of 
other crimes and is returned to serve another sentence, 
while the paroled man, though frequently going out with 
good intentions, under stress of temptation is led to vio¬ 
late some of the parole obligations, and is returned on 
that account. We sometimes wonder at it, and the ques¬ 
tion is frequently asked, Why is it that so many return to 
their prison cells ? Many answers might be given. I shall 
not attempt all of these, but will call attention to a few 
as they occur to me. 

One reason that will apply to many cases, was that 
given by Geo. W. Vance, as related by himself, and pub¬ 
lished in one of the Chicago papers at the time of his 
being returned to the prison in Joliet, Ill. He said, “I 
prefer the penitentiary to freedom because there I will 
be fed and clothed and be given shelter, while in my 
advanced years I cannot make a living, and am too old 
to beg now, after having been prosperous in my earlier 
life.” Such was the excuse given by this old man of 70 
years, who had passed a forged check on a dentist in 
Chicago, for which crime he served a term in prison, and 


82 THE men behind the bars, or 

on being released on parole went out to perform a simi¬ 
lar trick. 

On being arrested he said, “I am glad of it. I have 
greater experience in life than is allotted the most of 
men.” He said while seated in his cell at Central Station, 
“I was once well to do, and as a member of the wholesale 
grocery firm of Poole, Asral & Kendal, Park Place, New 
York, I lost $40,000. That broke me, and since then I 
have failed to gain a start in life. For two years I was 
private messenger to Wm. Tweed, street commissioner of 
New York under Mayor Oakley Hall. After quitting 
politics I came to Chicago and was connected with a 
wholesale grocery house as its book-keeper for several 
years, but finally resigned. I was also connected with 
other firms, but it would do no good to mention them. 

“I was sent to the penitentiary for forging checks, 
and given an indeterminate sentence of from one to ten 
years, September 4, 1900, so I will be sent back now to 
serve out my parole. I cannot be convicted on the new 
offense.” He said he had no relatives or friends, except 
a brother who went west, and from whom he had not 
heard for twenty-five years. The papers reported, at the 
time, that the old man was quite feeble. He was taken 
back to the penitentiary at Joliet; and unless he has been 
discharged by death, I suppose he is there still. 

After serving a term in prison, young men as well as 
old, go * out to find that the world has turned its back 
upon them, and too often that the church has closed its 
doors against them, and society has barred its gates so 
they cannot enter. A young man whose acquaintance I 
had formed in prison and with whom T had frequently 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


83 


conversed, and who seemed determined to lead a better 
life, wrote me August 3, 1902, saying, “The Board of 
Control granted me a parole two months ago, I had the 
assurance of my liberty by my former employer in South 
Bend signing my parole papers, when some one objected 
to my coming back to work in the same shop. This objec¬ 
tion caused the Local Tailors’ union to draft a resolution 
prohibiting my joining the order, so my former employer 
could not give me the situation, and I have been unable 
thus far to secure another satisfactory to myself and all 
concerned. I am a practical all round tailor, but would be 
glad to work in any capacity where I could be of mutual 
benefit to my employer and myself.” I have been mak¬ 
ing an effort to secure him a situation at another place, 
with some prospect of success, and so trust he may soon 
have his wish and be permitted another chance to redeem 
himself. 

A few years ago while in Chicago, I attended an 
evangelistic service that was being held in the Wabash 
Avenue M. E. Church. By invitation I preached that even¬ 
ing. At the close of the sermon an invitation was given 
for all that desired to live a better life to come forward. 
Among those who came was a young man. He seemed 
greatly moved, tears fell thick and fast, like summer rain, 
as he bowed in penitence at the altar, and his soul 
seemed greatly stirred within him, as he sought help from 
God. The meeting closed, he came to me, looking almost 
the picture of despair. I inquired into the nature of his 
case, and this is about what he said to me, “A short time 
ago I was released from the penitentiary at Joliet, having 
served my time. Before leaving the prison I fully re- 


84 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


solved, God being my helper, to lead another life.” “But,” 
said he, “I have had a hard time of it so far. No one will 
receive me or give me work. The only offer I have had 
was from a saloon-keeper who said he would give me my 
board if I would attend bar for him.” I said, perhaps 
somewhat hastily, ‘Die, first/ but then on second thought 
I could but feel that hunger must be fed. 

I turned him over to some Christian workers who 
promised to look after him and provide for his immediate 
wants, and try to find something permanent for him to 
do. What became of him I do not know. I fear there 
are some in our labor unions, and even in our churches 
who wrap themselves in the garments of their own self- 
righteousness, standing up in their integrity, and are 
anxious that these poor unfortunates should know their 
places and stay where they belong; who, if they had been 
placed under the same stress of temptation, instead of 
being where the}' are, might now be looking through the 
iron bars of a penitentiary, or walking the earth ostracised 
from society. 

We sometimes sing Lift up the Fallen, and Rescue 
the Perishing. O that it may not verge into mere senti¬ 
mentality, but may it become the passion of our lives to 
lift up and save the lost ones! Then shall we indeed be 
the followers of Him who Game to seek and to save. I 
sometimes greatly fear that in the day of final reckoning 
it will be said to some who are expecting better things, 
“Inasmuch as ye have not done it unto one of the least of 
these, ye have not done it unto me.” 

One beautiful Sabbath morning as I was passing out 
of the prison chapel in company with the deputy warden, 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 85 

I was stopped at the door by a prisoner, a man of fine 
personal appearance. His broad forehead and intellectu¬ 
al bearing betokened that he was a man of more than 
ordinary intelligence. His prison garb could not conceal 
the fact of his culture. I had frequently marked the sad 
expression on his countenance and a humble bearing in 
his manner and conversation. My sympathies had al¬ 
ready been awakened in his behalf, for I had heard his 
story from one who had known him in other and better 
days. As soon as the deputy had passed on, he put these 
questions to me, “How did you learn my name and who 
I am?” I told him how, and where I had gotten my in¬ 
formation. “Well/’ said he, “I did not want any one to 
know me here, I was in hopes that even my old friends 
would not recognize me. But then I suppose it is all 
right. I want to thank you for your kind words and min¬ 
istration; they have done me good. Before you return 
again I will have gone out of this prison house, I trust 
never to return. My wife and daughters have remained 
true to me all through this terrible ordeal. They are now 
waiting to welcome me. But oh, there is a great blight 
upon our once happy home.” A tremor passed over his 
manly frame, and a shadow darkened his brow as he ut¬ 
tered these significant words, “Where shall I go? and 
What shall I do?” 

And now, with the reader’s permission I wish to di¬ 
verge a little right here from the main subject of this 
chapter. We have in the above incident an illustration 
showing that the length of the term of imprisonment is 
not always a true test of the affliction of the prisoner. I 
am fully convinced that there are those in prison who 


86 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

endure more real mental anguish in one year than do 
many others in five or ten years. Who can doubt that 
this man with his keen moral sense, his love of home and 
family, endured sufferings untold when compared with 
men who through continued dissipations, evil associations, 
and crimes, have blunted all their moral conceptions of 
right and wrong, and so, in a measure, destroyed all the 
finer feelings of their natures? 

I have met with a few who seemed to have a total dis¬ 
regard for the good opinion of other men. I recall one 
whom I met soon after he entered the state prison. He 
was a young man, a graduate from a school of medicine, 
and, I was told, skilled in his profession; but who through 
dissipation and lust had apparently lost all moral sensibil¬ 
ity. He had broken his marriage vow, and turned away 
from her whom he had sworn to love and cherish, and 
formed an alliance with another; which other he had 
basely murdered in cold blood, because as I was told, she 
sought to evade his approaches, and escape from his 
presence. For this crime he was apprehended, tried, and 
sentenced to imprisonment for life in the state prison. 
This man seemed to have no real conception of the ter¬ 
rible nature of the deed he had committed, and hence no 
compunction of conscience because of what he had done. 
No doubt he felt chagrined because of the loss of his 
liberty; but morally he appeared to be entirely destitute 
of feeling. 

Thus one sin defiles while continued sin blackens the 
soul, drowns the voice of conscience, and then leaves the 
man to pursue his own chosen path to ruin. Shakespeare 
says of conscience, “Tis a dangerous thing. It makes a 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 87 

man a coward. A man cannot steal but it accuseth him; 
cannot swear, but it checks him. ’Tis a blushing, shame¬ 
faced spirit, that mutinies in a man’s bosom. It fills one 
full of obstacles; it made me once restore a purse of gold 
that by chance I found. It beggars any man who keeps 
it. It is turned out of towns and cities as a dangerous 
thing and every man who means to live well, endeavors 
to trust himself and get along without it.” 

Conscience indeed accuses as represented in the quo¬ 
tation until by negligence and wrong doing it becomes 
effaced, and then as told men endeavor to trust them¬ 
selves and get along without it. And then, as represented 
by Dr. Young, they drop on headlong appetite the slack¬ 
ened rein; and give themselves up to license unrecalled. 

Inside the prison, guards are appointed, who keep 
strict watch over each and every prisoner, lest they escape 
or excite mutiny or rebellion. It is just as important in 
this grasping, money-seeking age, that each man outside 
of prison walls keep close watch over his own conscience; 
that in the end he may shun the guards who keep 
, watch inside the penitentiary. There is great need of 
reform outside as well as inside the prison. 

But the question to be considered in this chapter is 
Going back to prison, and Why? And now, after having 
diverged somewhat from the subject, I return. Not all 
the men in prison are bad from choice or principle. It 
may be that some are born bad, and the evil tendencies 
in them have been educated and developed by their en¬ 
vironments, and their dispositions have become hardened 
by years of sin and vice. But in regard to the apparently 
most hardened and vicious we must not despair. The 


88 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


Power that regenerates is omnipotent, and knows no such 
thing as failure when rightly applied. We must therefore 
entertain hope and courage for every man, no matter how 
bad, whether in or outside the prison walls. 

Our prisons are largely filled with men who have been 
unfortunate. They have for the most part grown up into 
life without the helps many of us have had, and but for 
the restraining influences of our birth, home, and educa¬ 
tional advantages, some of us, like them, might now be 
looking out through the bars of the penitentiary. The 
prison reports show that many of these men have not had 
an even chance in life with many others. They have 
grown up from infancy without the opportunity of moral 
and intellectual training. A very large per cent of the 
men in prison have been addicted to the drink habit; had 
it not been for this they would never have been guilty o f 
the crimes for which they are now incarcerated. In the 
prison they are compelled to abstain from the use of in¬ 
toxicants, but in many instances this passion for strong 
drink remains a smouldering fire within them. They go 
out of prison at the expiration of the time limit, or on pa¬ 
role that they will be better men and do the right thing; 
but everywhere and at all times the}' are brought in con¬ 
tact with this accursed foe of God and humanity, in the 
form of the drinking saloons, which like the gates of death 
and hell, stand open night and day. Could we visit the 
prisons of this country and ask of the nearly one hundred 
thousand incarcerated ones how they came to be there, 
about eight out of ten would tell us strong drink led to 
the crimes for which they are now confined behind the 
bars. Then could we ask of the prison officials, Why is it 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 89 

that so many after being released are brought back to 
their prison cells? And they would tell us that nine out 
of ten are brought back through the drinking saloons, 
gambling hells, and brothels. 

Then again the fact that the man has been a trans¬ 
gressor, and has served a term in prison has awakened 
a suspicion against him, and though he has met the pen¬ 
alty of his transgression he is still at great disadvantage. 
There are those who refuse to accept employment along 
with a discharged convict. And then sometimes employ¬ 
ers treat paroled men in an unbecoming manner. Not 
long since I met a paroled man whom I had frequently 
met in the prison. His time of parole had about expired. 
He seemed glad to see me, and said if I had the time he 
wanted a little talk with me. I said I would take time 
to hear what he had to say. 

Then he gave me the following story of his. past year’s 
work. He said, “I was paroled nearly a year ago, and 
given employment on a farm at ten dollars per month. 
My employer had two other hands, one a young man who 
was paid eighteen dollars and another who was paid 
twenty dollars per month,” The man said, “Perhaps I 
ought not to complain, but I have had a hard year of it, 
harder than I ever had in the prison. I have worked from 
twelve to fourteen hours a day all the year through. The 
other two hands had riding plows in breaking up the 
ground and working the corn, but I had to take it afoot 
day after day, doing my part of the work. On Sunday the 
family and others allowed me to hitch up the team to the 
carriage, and they went to church, or elsewhere, but I 
had to remain at home, clean out the stables, and do the 


90 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


chores so as to be ready to work on the farm early Mon¬ 
day morning. Last April a neighbor offered to sign my 
papers, give me steady employment, and pay me twenty 
dollars per month if I would work for him. But my em¬ 
ployer was not willing to increase my wages nor release 
me to him, so I was forced to work or run away, or go 
back to prison. I have submitted to all this, because 1 
was determined to not violate my 'parole obligations, 
chat I might once more be free.” 

I have given the above incident as nearly as I could in 
the man’s own words. In substance it is just as he told 
it to me. But I am glad to be able to say from personal 
knowledge, this manner of dealing with paroled men is 
the exception. Most of those who employ these men 
treat them kindly, and many of them find their places 
agreeable and home-like. Then again there are those 
who having charge of workmen look upon these men with 
disfavor, and acts which under other circumstances would 
not be thought peculiar are construed against them. 
Then there are those from whom we should expect better 
things, who instead of aiding the paroled or discharged 
convict to find honest employment that he may learn to 
live an upright life, create suspicion, and so hinder him 
from finding and keeping employment, and his failure in 
this respect is often used against him. The world seems 
to him harsh and cruel, he becomes discouraged, he feels 
that he is outlawed, and so is frequently driven into a 
criminal class, from which he will in all probability be 
returned to a prison cell. 

One Sabbath afternoon I visited a number of prisoners 
in the north cell house. I had gone to the extreme end 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


91 


of a tier of cells and was returning, speaking to one after 
another as opportunity offered, when I was accosted by a 
bright, intelligent looking young man, who said he was 
only twenty-three years of age, and that he was serving 
his second term in prison. “I have been paroled,” he said. 
“Before you return I will be out of this place, and yet,” 
said he, “I am afraid to go out.” He said further, “This 
term in prison has been a great blessing to me. I have 
read my Bible more than ever before, and more than that 
I have been soundly converted; and I have fully made 
up my mind to live a Christian life from this time forward. 
God being my helper, this will be my last term in prison.” 

He then wanted to know what course he should take 
to keep from falling. I advised him to-shun evil compan¬ 
ionship, and to seek Christian associations, to find a home 
in some Christian church and then let his head, heart, 
and hand be employed in helping to save others. This 
he faithfully promised to do. But then the thought came 
to me, will the church receive him? O for more of the 
spirit of the Christ in all of our churches! 


CHAPTER VI. 


METHODS EMPLOYED FOR THE REFORMATION OF PRISON¬ 
ERS, UNDER THE INDETERMINATE SENTENCE, 
ALONG WITH SOME SUGGESTIONS OFFERED. 

As the main object of the Indefinite Sentence is the 
reformation of the prisoner, and thus to prepare him for 
good citizenship, it may not be amiss for me to notice 
some of the methods used for bringing about this desired 
result, along with some suggestions touching the same. 

I use the word prisoner, rather than criminal, for all 
are not criminals that are behind the bars. Having care ¬ 
fully studied these men, I am fully convinced that they 
are not all bad, and that there are many outside who 
are worse than many of these incarcerated ones. For 
several years I had the opportunity of mingling with 
these men, visiting and conversing freely with them in 
their cells. Many of them have told me of the sad influen¬ 
ces leading up to their imprisonment. And I have looked 
into their faces, and marked the sad expressions of woe, 
mingled with sorrow and grief, while with their lips they 
confessed their wrong, and told of the sad influences 
leading up to their imprisonment. I have been fully per¬ 
suaded that they are not only human, but that many of 
them have hearts that may be touched and won. I have 
been led to believe that some of us under the same stress 
of temptation might have been as they are. 

Passing the barred door of a prison cell in the south 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


93 


cell house one Sunday afternoon, I was accosted by a pris¬ 
oner, a man perhaps in mid-life. He said, “I would like 
a moment's conversation with you, if you have the time to 
spare.” I paused. He stepped back and.from a rude 
shelf picked up a parcel carefully wrapped in paper, which 
he unfolded and passed through the bars of his cell door 
for my inspection. It proved to be a family picture of 
his wife, two daughters, and himself, father, mother and 
children. Intelligence, love, and happiness beamed from 
each countenance. While I looked upon the group the 
man stood weeping as though his heart would break; his 
whole frame trembled with emotion, while amid his sobs 
he said, “A man tried to injure my family,” (he did not 
say in what way). “We were brought face to face with 
each other, one word brought on another, until I became 
so incensed against him, that on the impulse of a moment, 
1 felled him to the earth. The blow was harder than I in¬ 
tended. The life of the man went out, and now,” he said, 
“I am here for twenty-one years, cut off from my home 
and family. O,” said he, as the tears fell thick and fast, 
“it’s hard, hard. I fear I shall lose my reason.” I said 
to him, “You must not despair; still hope for the best and 
look to God for help.” But I went away feeling that 
words were empty things to quell a grief such as stirred 
his soul. 

Many of these men do not claim that they are innocent 
of crime, but that under stress of temptation, in an evil 
hour they fell, as if by accident. On the impulse of the 
moment they did the deed that led to their incarceration. 
Many of these men have kind hearts and tender feelings. 
They are easily approached by those whom they feel have 


94 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

still a regard for them. They have not lost all their moral 
convictions, and some of them I firmly believe, are still 
in love with God, home, and humanity. 

In the Christian Endeavor service I have joined in 
their songs of love and praise, and mingled my prayers 
with theirs for strength to endure and grace to overcome. 
I have heard one after another, in quick succession, testify 
to the grace of God that saves, and many speak of the 
blessings that have come to them, even inside the prison 
walls, while penitential tears have shown the sincerity of 
their devotions. 

The supreme thought of those to whom is commit¬ 
ted the management of our penal institutions, under the 
indeterminate, sentence law, is or should be the reforma¬ 
tion of those under their charge. Prisoners are men like 
unto ourselves. They carry within their breasts the same 
thoughts, hopes, and fears. They have the same long¬ 
ings. They are exposed to the same temptations and 
trials. Many of them have never learned to control their 
impulses, or to subdue their passions. 

In the prison they find themselves under peculiar con¬ 
ditions and restraints, and soon become very sensitive 
as to real or supposed neglect or wrong treatment on the 
part of the warden, chaplain, or prison officials. It is of 
the utmost importance for the better management of pris¬ 
ons, as well as for the reformation of prisoners that the 
warden and chaplain especially, let prisoners know and 
feel that they are their personal friends; and that they 
are there to help them. When they have succeeded in so 
doing, they have already gained an immense influence 
over them. The men should be made to feel that these 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 95 

officials are incapable of injustice, impatience, or neglect. 
Should there be any among the prisoners, as no doubt 
there will be, who assume a righteous demeanor, in order 
that they may curry favor for selfish purposes, iet them 
be sought out, and in a merciful way properly dealt with. 
They must be made to feel that the friendship of the man¬ 
agement cannot with impunity be trampled under foot. 
But at the same time the most timid and sensitive prisoner 
must be shielded from that state of despondency which 
often leads to despair, and from which many a man never 
recovers. In the Indiana State Prison and reformatories, 
constant appeals are made to the inmates to assert their 
manhood while at the same time the highest possible in¬ 
ducements are held out to stimulate them in so doing. 

When signs of reformation on the part of prisoners be¬ 
gin to appear they are not only recognized with gladness 
by the officials, but a disposition upon their part is shown 
to repose trust and confidence in them, which in many in¬ 
stances meets with no uncertain response. The men are 
made to feel that all is not lost, that there are those 
around them who still care for and sympathize with them. 
I think I never found a place where real genuine sym¬ 
pathy is more needed and more keenly appreciated than 
inside prison walls. How many, after long years of wan¬ 
dering, have been brought back to a better life, through 
the Heaven-born influence of a single heart that has been 
touched with a feeling of their infirmities, and has ever 
been beating for them in their lost condition. 

The most divine attribute of the human heart is sym¬ 
pathy. It is a stream that flows from the fountain of infin¬ 
ite love. Without it human life would indeed become a 


96 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


burden, and the world a desert waste. When the heart 
is breaking and great grief burdens the soul, sympathy 
comes with a soothing balm to assuage the pain and 
bind up the broken parts. It opens the way for reconcili¬ 
ation with the hardest decrees of fate. We can scarcely 
conceive of a heart so hardened as to be entirely desti¬ 
tute of sympathy. There comes a time in the life of 
every human being when they hunger and thirst for it, 
as the starving child hungers for bread, or the traveler 
dying in the desert waste longs for the cooling waters. 
There is no object so poor or low, as to be unworthy of 
it. How fortunate, how providential that the fountain of 
sympathy cannot be exhausted. Coming as it does from 
the bosom of the Eternal Father its streams are ever 
full and flowing, overflowing, and extending to the ends 
of the earth. 

It is not to be turned aside because of the vices, pollu¬ 
tions, and wickedness of the world in which we live. It 
was intended to have it find its way through strong prison 
walls, and iron barred gates, into the lonly cell of the 
unfortunate prisoner, in the hour of his greatest need, 
soothing, strengthening, and sustaining him for the con¬ 
flict that is to bring him victory. It comes not alone from 
those who are bound together by kindred ties, but from 
acquaintances and strangers, who witness the need and 
respond to the call. I would write it upon the minds and 
hearts of all would-be reformers, whether in or outside 
of prison walls and reformatories, that the most potent 
factor, outside of the direct divine influence of the Holy 
Spirit, if these two can be separated, for the reformation 
of fallen man is that of heart-felt human sympathy. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 97 

Sympathy is a debt we owe to sufferers. It renders a 
doleful state more joyful. Alexander refused water be¬ 
cause there was not enough for his army. Many ex¬ 
amples might be given of its power to save. Mr. Moody 
tells of a man just released from the penitentiary to whom 
he was introduced. He invited him to his home, where he 
introduced him to his family as his friend; when his little 
daughter came into the room he said, “Emma, this is 
papa’s friend. And she went up and kissed him; and the 
man sobbed aloud. After the child left the room Mr. 
Moody said to the man, “What is the matter?” “O,” said 
he, “I have not had a kiss for years. The last kiss I had 
was from my mother, and she was dying. I thought I 
would never have another one again.” His heart was 
broken. 

Rev. H. C. Trumbell, when once preaching to the in¬ 
mates of a prison, said the only difference between him¬ 
self and them was owing to the grace of God. Afterwards 
one of the prisoners sent for him, and asked, “Did you 
mean what you said about sympathizing with us?” Being 
answered in the affirmative, the prisoner said, “I am here 
for life; but I can stay here more contentedly now that 
I know I have a brother out in the world who cares for 
me.” From that on the man behaved so well that he was 
pardoned. He died during the war of the Rebellion, 
thanking God to the last for the preacher’s words of sym¬ 
pathy. 

H. W. Beecher, speaking of the power of sympathy 
says, “Happy is the man who has that in his soul which 
acts upon the dejected as April airs upon violet roots. 
Gifts for the hand are silver and gold; but the heart gives 


98 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

that which neither silver nor gold can buy. To be full 
of goodness, full of cheerfulness, full of sympathy, full of 
helpful. hope, causes a man to carry blessings of which 
he himself is as unconscious as a lamp of its own shin¬ 
ing. Such a one moves on human life as the stars move 
on dark seas to • bewildered mariners, as the sun wheels, 
bringing all the seasons with him from the south.” 

I have spoken thus at length on this subject because 
I consider it a very important part to be observed in the 
reformation of the fallen men, women, and children, in 
all our penal institutions, in both this and other countries. 
This spirit of sympathy for human suffering lies at the 
very foundation of all moral reform. It is the moving 
spirit that actuates all the noble army of the race in 
building and maintaining all the great benevolent insti¬ 
tutions of the world to-day. 

On the tomb of Howard, I have been told there is to 
be found this inscription, 

“He Lived for Others.” 

Yet this very man was born to lead a domestic life, 
and hated moving from place to place. It is related of 
him that he never came, in sight of his own mansion with¬ 
out saying, “O that I could rest there, and be done with 
traveling.” Howard was for a moment weary and faint. 
But his weariness was soon shaken off, and the fainting 
surmounted. Touched with a spirit of deep sympathy for 
fallen humanity, he bade farewell to home and all its. en¬ 
dearments, and traveled to the close of his eventful and 
useful life, striving to abate the misery and suffering of 
the oppressed and downtrodden of earth. O that the 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


99 


Holy Spirit might breathe into our languid hearts more of 
the spirit of this great reformer. 

But I fancy I hear some one say, “But these men are 
bad; many of them have been gathered from untoward 
places; and their dissipations are marked features in all 
their bearings.” It is true in regard to many; and their 
wrong doings may warrant dislike, and we may shrink 
back from not a few because of their filthiness and vice. 
But such discrepancies, however, in taste and position are 
not to modify and restrict us in our duty toward them. 
Things may not wear the aspect I like, but this is not to 
freeze my heart and keep me back from those who need 
my help. 

We are all made of the same dust, and the same blood 
is in the veins of all. We have all sinned and so are all 
under the same condemnation. Salvation is provided for 
all. And the Spirit knocks at the door of every heart; 
and we must not, we dare not, then refuse to embrace the 
wide circle of human beings in the arms of our sympathy 
and love. The same blood is the only test and condition, 
and if there be any special tie which enhances the claim 
and tightens the obligation it would be want, sorrow, or 
debasement. 

Where is a man fallen, and helpless, a man sick at 
heart, and sick in health; a man wounded of sin, and 
laden with guilt, and on the brink of ruin? There is my 
neighbor; and there is my sphere of compassionate, earn¬ 
est Christ-like effort, whether it be in the almshouse, 
jail, or penitentiary. “I am a man, and every man is my 
brother.” 

Mr. F. B. Sanborn, thirty-two years ago, was a mem- 


100 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


I 5 er of the first National Prison Congress held in Cincin¬ 
nati, Ohio, October, 1870 which Congress opened the 
way for the establishment of the National Prison Associa¬ 
tion as incorporated in the city of New York, of which 
association he was a charter member, and one of the sub¬ 
committee who reported the platform of principles, which 
since 1870 have largely prevailed in the United States and 
in foreign countries. He delivered an address before the 
National Prison Congress, held in Hartford, Connecti¬ 
cut, during the month of September, 1899, in whioh ad¬ 
dress he was led to review the past and compare it with 
the present, and with the hopeful future. In this address 
he spoke of the progress made by man in civilization and 
his triumph over many of the natural forces bv utilizing 
them to the extent that they are made to perform his 
bidding. 

But with all his skill in the management of these 
forces, he cannot guard against disease and death. He 
represents that it is the same with mental and moral 
diseases, which thwart and arrest the progress of man¬ 
kind. And he observes that man has been much slower 
in dealing with these, than with the physical obstacles 
which may be overcome by civilization. He notices how 
during the last few decades great changes, have been 
made in the treatment of the insane; and represents that 
the prevention of insanity is so far as we can determine, 
a matter of the far future, as also is that of the prevention 
and cure of crime, and that it is only a short time since 
men began to understand the best methods for treating 
the same. “Prison science is still in its infancy so far as 
the world is concerned. Of the great multitudes impris- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 101 

oned in the world, not a tenth part are treated with any 
reference or regard to their restoration to society. Some¬ 
thing has been and is being done by the early training of 
children who are exposed to criminal experiences; but 
how few of those in prisons find the training suited to 
their sore need,, and the protection of the community, 
which still believes that it ‘punishes’ the offender.” 

Gradually in the last thirty years there has grown up, 
in regard to the so-called first offenders, what is justly 
termed “prison science; of which Mr. Sanford thinks the 
best examples are to be found in the men’s prison at 
Elmira, New York, and is the outgrowth of Mr. Brock- 
way’s experience of half a century in controlling and in¬ 
structing convicts under his care; and in the women’s 
prison at Sherborn in the state of Massachusetts, under 
the management of Mrs. Ellen C. Johnson, who was a 
member and officer of the prison association, and for 
long years superintendent of the women’s reformatory 
prison. The successful management of these institutions 
led other Jike institutions to imitate, and in some cases 
to originate other scientific methods in the care and 
treatment of convicts; which methods are being prac¬ 
ticed, and are happily increasing in other establishments 
of like kind. These two reformers developed ideas which 
served as a warning to some, and a model to others in the 
difficult and much misconstrued work of giving to crimi¬ 
nal men and women a chance to return to the community 
whose intimacy they had forfeited by crime. 

At the present time criminals of long standing re¬ 
ceive but little benefit from this new development of 
prison science, except in some states where they now 


102 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


receive an added sentence when they are known to be old 
offenders. In some states the tendency is to establish a 
class of .“incorrigibles” for whom perpetual imprison¬ 
ment is the rule, on the supposition that they cannot be 
reformed, and so cannot be safely returned to the com¬ 
munity upon which they have so frequently preyed. These 
are, however, to be distinguished from, a much larger 
class who are only temporarily incorrigible, and who it is 
thought will yield to the methods, if somewhat prolonged, 
which Mr. Brockway has established at Elmira and Mrs. 
Johnson at Sherborn. 

In his address Mr. Sanborn called attention to the 
prison discipline of our grandsires as administered under 
the impulse given by Howard and the early prison reform¬ 
ers, and to the abuses of the convict system of the 
eighteenth century. In many places he represented the 
physical and moral conditions of prisons to be fearful, 
filth and jail fever predominated in many places, along 
with alternations of starvation and riots. Better ventila¬ 
tion, along with bathing, regulation in diet, and physical 
exercise was instituted. Also separation of the better- 
class of criminals from those who were fearfully depraved 
was demanded. Pushing a good principle to extremes, 
the so-called “separate” system was set up. To mitigate 
the cost and evils of this, the silent, or Auburn system was 
enforced; in some respects worse and more unreasonable 
than the rigors of the Pennsylvania system. These were 
some of the methods prevailing in the more advanced 
countries when he began to study the prison question in 
1864. 

For religious instruction, convicts were provided with 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 103 

a chaplain who held services on the Sabbath, and con¬ 
versed with prisoners as opportunity offered, prison 
libraries of rigidly selected, and extremely dull books, 
the Bible always excepted and in itself a library of excel¬ 
lent entertainment, was provided for those who could 
read. Prison visitation was allowed to those who were 
considered ostensibly good ds a specific in the separate 
prisons. Mr. Sanborn said, “Its model imitation was 
the gospel , and to visit the sick or imprisoned was a 
Christian’ virtue as it certainly is; but on other terms now 
than in the ages of indiscriminate and despotic imprison¬ 
ment, when the very worst of criminals, such as Herod 
and Tiberius were in places of power.” 

As for labor, those employments were chosen which 
were especially hard, and could least promote the con¬ 
vict’s self-support when he was released from prison. In 
England hard labor took on the meaning of useless labor, 
as turning an idle crank; or some other manual service 
equally degrading. to the manhood of the prisoner. It 
was thought that such useless toil would deter the men 
from being re-convicted for like offences. But who ever 
heard of any who were kept back from criminal pursuits 
by dread of the crank, or the stone yard ? 

No doubt the substitutes emploved to abate the degra¬ 
dations, miseries, and vices of prisons as described by 
Howard and Oglethorpe; and sought to be cured by such 
men as Bentham and others, were a great improvement, 
but they did not check the increase of crime so far as 
seen, nor did they reform the criminal. Accordingly other 
men having the interest of the criminal at heart began to 
devise other methods, which were first tried by Alexander 


104 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


Maconochie at Norfolk Island with the worst class of 
British and Irish felons, where it produced good results. 
It is now successfully applied to “first offenders.” It 
was next introduced into the Irish prisons by Sir Walter 
Crofton, a man of rare executive ability, who gave it 
success there, and attracted the attention of the world. 
This new method of dealing with prisoners began in this 
country in 1854, under the management of a young man, 
Z. R. Brockway, who had received an apprenticeship 
under a skillful teacher of the old methods, at Westerfield, 
Connecticut, and Albany, New York, Amos Pillsbury, 
and then as the head of a small county prison in Roches¬ 
ter. Mr. Brockway was a man of genius and great practi¬ 
cal ability, and was called from Rochester to Detroit, and 
from Detroit to Elmira; and at each remove has added 
to his ingenious mechanism, “inspired by a philanthropic, 
but disciplined soul, for recovering the criminal from his 
chronic malady of law-breaking.” To him more than any 
other man, Mr. Sanborn says, belongs the credit of the 
initiation and development of prison science during the 
last thirty years. 

He has changed the prison to a reformatory, and has 
made the reformatory not a mere place of theories and 
sermons, but a school, or rather a college of manual, men¬ 
tal, and moral instruction. And he has done this by means 
and upon principles which can be introduced elsewhere, 
and have been used in many other prisons in America. 
He has made virtues teachable which Socrates wished for 
but doubted. 

The requirements of this prison science, is first to 
understand each individual prisoner, and to place him in 













































L 









LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 107 

one of several grades from which he may rise to the high¬ 
est by proper effort. 

Second, to see that he has credit for good or bad con¬ 
duct, and that he is properly marked in proportion as his 
lessons are good or poor. 

Third, the progress made either up or down in manual 
training and mechanical industries. This should be done 
in such a way that the convict may be led to recognize 
the justice of the award. The instruction given in the 
prison is to be of such a nature, that the man may be 
fitted for some honest employment, which will serve him 
in making a living when the prison shall cease to be his 
home. Thus the Indeterminate Sentence seeks to employ 
the time given under the old regime for the punishment 
of the criminal, for his education and reformation, that 
he may once more become an honorable and upright 
citizen. He is given to understand that his future is in 
his own hands. In thus preparing him for good citizen¬ 
ship, and for his restoration to society great patience may 
be required. It may be necessary, “That justice and 
mercy meet together;" and that the grace of forgiveness 
be frequently exercised. 


CHAPTER VII. 


HOME, AND ITS INFLUENCE ON THE FUTURE OF 
THE CHILD. 

One quiet Sabbath morning* in the month of October, 
1901, the Christian Endeavor met in their accustomed 
place, the school-room of the Indiana State Prison. 
There were about one hundred and fifty convicts pres¬ 
ent, all members of the Christian Endeavor Society The 
service was conducted by one of the prisoners, a life man. 
After two or three songs a Scripture lesson was read, 
and several prayers were offered by prisoners. The sub¬ 
ject announced by the leader for consideration was that 
of heaven. After a short talk on the topic, he proposed 
that each convict, so far as opportunity offered, should 
give his own idea of heaven. The meeting was then 
thrown open, and one after another spoke in quick suc¬ 
cession. Some spoke of heaven as a place of reward 
for service rendered. Others thought of it as the hab¬ 
itation of God and the state of the glorified spirits who 
dwell with Him; others, as a place of purity, where there 
is no sin, and temptations are unknown. Then there 
were those, who, weary with the burdens of life, thought 
of heaven as a place of rest, where they would forever 
be free from anxious forebodings, toil, and care. After 
quite a large number had spoken the leader asked an in¬ 
telligent looking prisoner, calling him by name. And what 




LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 109 

is your idea of heaven? The answer came quickly and 
with deep feeling and in clear tender tones. He 
said, “As I think of heaven this morning, I think of 
home.” There was a pathos in his words that touched 
many hearts, while tears were brushed aside from many 
eyes unaccustomed to weep. He had touched a chord 
that awakened symphonies in other hearts in harmony 
with his own. 

Some one has said that the three sweetest words in 
the English language are Mother, Home, and Heaven. 
These words are tenderly allied. To many minds the 
one suggests the others. In their testimony that morn¬ 
ing, each word had been frequently used, but the word 
that awakened the deepest emotion of soul in that prison 
house, was that of home in connection with heaven. 

Various types are employed to bring before our minds 
an idea of that Heaven to which we may attain. Eden, 
Paradise, Canaan, Jerusalem, and the Temple, are all sug¬ 
gestive lessons. But none of these types or metaphors 
bring Heaven so near as those which speak of Heaven 
as home. Even the blessed Christ, when He would com¬ 
fort the hearts and revive the drooping spirits of His 
sorrowing disciples employs this figure, “In My Fath¬ 
er's house are many mansions, if it were not so I 
would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.” 
John 14: 2. The most delightful place on earth is that 
home where love dwells. Home, there is magic in the 
word. “To be home,” says an eminent divine, “is the 
wish of the seaman on stormy seas and lonely watch. 
Home is the wish of the soldier, and tender visions min¬ 
gle with the troubled dreams of trench and tented fields, 


110 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


where palm trees wave their graceful plumes, and birds 
of jeweled lustre flash and flicker among gorgeous flow¬ 
ers. The exile sits staring on vacancy; a far away home 
lies on his heart, and borne on the wings of fancy,over 
intervening seas and land, he has swept away home, and 
hears the lark singing above his father’s fields, and sees 
his fair-haired brother with light foot and childhood glee 
chasing the butterfly by his native streams.” 

So these men, in their lonely exile, shut out from the 
world by staring prison walls, or confined behind prison 
bars in close cells, in their better moments think of home, 
and find in it a precious type of Heaven. Many of these 
poor unfortunates carry with them tender recollections 
of a Christian home, and a family altar at which they 
were taught to kneel, and the prayers they learned at 
their mother’s knee. They frequently speak of the hal¬ 
lowed associations in which they once moved; and with 
tears of penitence bemoan their lost estate. A young 
man, prepossessing in his appearance, unobtrusive in his 
manner and bearing, intelligent beyond many, confined 
in prison for life, came to me one evening and spoke to 
me of his happy boyhood days, his home, of his mother’s 
tender care, love, and counsel. He then told how in an 
evil moment he had wandered away, and by a terrible 
crime had destroyed his own peace of mind, and blighted 
all her hopes and crushed her spirit. “And now,” said 
he, ‘‘she has become hopelessly insane. Oh, I would 
gladly spend the remaining years of my life in this prison- 
house if she could once more be restored to her right 
mind.” 

There is still hope for those poor incarcerated ones 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


Ill 


around whose hearts cluster the memory of a loving 
Christian home. They yield more readily to the claims 
of the gospel message. Having been brought into close 
personal contact with many and all kinds of prisoners, 
in the penitentiary, I am fully persuaded that there is 
much in the cherished memory of a Christian home that 
holds on to the boy, and never lets go the man. But 
the great majority of those found in our prisons have 
not been reared in Christian homes. Mr. Brockway, of 
the Elmira Reformatory, New York, reports that out 
of 8,319 inmates only ten and seven-tenths per cent were 
born of even temperate parents; that in thirty-seven and 
three-tenths per cent drunkenness marked their ances¬ 
tors; that eighty-nine per cent had in their blood the 
taint of intemperance. As to education, a very large 
majority of criminals are quite illiterate. As to prop¬ 
erty, Mr. Brockway found that 84 per cent were without 
any accumulation, and that only ten per cent were fore¬ 
handed. Of the environment of 4,642 who had homes 
nearly forty-eight per cent was bad; and of forty-one 
per cent of the remainder it was only fair, and of only 
twelve and two-tenths per cent was it good. As to the 
character of the associations of these men, ninety-eight 
per cent were other than good, and fifty-four and two- 
tenths per cent were positively bad, while forty-three and 
four-tenths per cent of the remainder were not good. 

In many of the so-called homes, children are reared 
in vice and trained in the school of crime. The result 
is seen in our cities, where are frequently to be found 
organized bands of children who are engaged in all man¬ 
ner of petty crimes, such as thieving and burglary. A 


1.12 the men behind the bars, or 

Chicago paper some time ago gave an account of a num¬ 
ber of children from nine to thirteen years of age, who 
had been arrested for burglary. They had effected an 
entrance under the sidewalk into the cellar of a store¬ 
room, and had for some time been carrying on their 
nefarious work before they were found out and arrested. 

In an article on civic life published in the Western 
Christian Advocate, Oct. 31, 1900, chaplain Starr of the 
Ohio penitentiary says, “Without formal statistical ar¬ 
rangements on the subject, it was sadly conceded by the 
National Prison Congress held iti Cleveland during the 
month of September of that year, that the ratio of crim¬ 
inals is increasing.” Hon. Samuel Barrows, a member of 
the International Penitentiary Commission, who had a 
short time before returned from Brussels, Belgium, where 
he had attended the International Prison Congress and 
had obtained an' extensive view of the world’s criminol¬ 
ogy, said, “With all our improvements crime is increas¬ 
ing, and it is a mystery to us all. This is an enormous 
problem, and one which must be solved if our republic 
is to be preserved.” 

It is' also admitted by the best authorities on crimi¬ 
nology that the average age of those convicted of crime 
is growing less and less, as the years go by. When I 
first visited the prison at Michigan City I was greatly 
surprised at the youthful appearance of many of the con¬ 
victs. Since then many of the younger convicts have 
been taken to the reformatory at Jeffersonville. But a 
large number of those who remain in the state prison 
are young men, and at least two of the criminal class who 
are confined for life are mere boys. One Sunday after- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 113 

noon while visiting the prisoners in the south cell house 
I came to a cell where I found a boy but thirteen years 
of age, who had just entered upon a life sentence for 
the crime of murder. I said to him, “My boy, what are 
you doing here? You'ought to be at home with your 
mother.” I shall never forget his child-look as his large 
eyes, filled with tears, were lifted to mine, and in his 
artless way he said, “Don’t you think they will let me 
out of here soon?” I read not long since of a judge who 
presided at a trial in the conviction of a boy of sixteen 
years of age, for killing a man he was attempting to rob. 
In giving his charge to the jury the .judge asked that 
they consider the causes that led so many children into 
crime, as'over sixty per cent of those charged with steal¬ 
ing are under eighteen years of age. It is said that in 
Cincinnati whole bands of children have been arrested 
whose ages have been less than twelve years. 

Chaplain Starr says that in Ohio it is customary to 
send the younger class of criminals to the reformatory, 
yet the average age of the criminals in the Ohio peni¬ 
tentiary is less than twenty-eight years. It is reported 
that in Lancaster, Pa., fifty suits were entered against 
twenty boys, ranging from fifteen to twenty years of age. 

This can only mean that criminals begin their career 
of crime in childhood. Chaplain Batt, of the Massachu¬ 
setts penitentiary, says the majority of prisoners are 
young men, and what is needed is something to prevent 
children from becoming convicts. The Cleveland Leader 
stated editorially some time since, that day after day boys 
less than fifteen years of age were found guilty in the 
police courts of that city, and when discharged they 


114 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS., OR 

were almost sure to come back again and again, until 
they were old enough to be sent to the workhouse. When 
we look at these sad instances of childhood transgres¬ 
sors, which could be multiplied many times, we can but 
be convinced that the best place to prevent crime is in 
the home. If there could be some way to correct the 
home life, in many instances it would lessen materially 
the number of those who are replenishing our reforma¬ 
tories and state prisons. If some method could be de¬ 
vised by which we could keep our boys, and young men, 
and, may I not add, our maidens from going away into 
evil companionships or environments it would go a long 
way towards solving the problem of lessening the num¬ 
ber of criminals in all our penal and reformatory insti¬ 
tutions. If we could by some means make home so at¬ 
tractive that our young people would find in it the sweet¬ 
est enjoyment and the highest aspirations to a pure and 
noble manhood and womanhood, what a revolution would 
be effected towards correcting the social evils that exist 
in society all around us. In too many instances heads 
of families find their chief enjoyment in the club rooms 
and lodges, while the social life of the home is sadly 
neglected; and the children go out from under the par¬ 
ental roof to find companionships in questionable places. 

Public reformers are wont to arraign the saloons, 
drunkenness, brothels, and gambling houses; and this 
does seem to be largely their work. I would not have 
them keep silent. Let them speak out in thunder tones 
against these monster iniquities. Let the ministers in 
all the pulpits of the land join in this great contest. The 
Word of God is arraigned against all these gigantic forms 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


115 


of evil, and surely all who are called of God to present 
the Word should be. I know there are those who are 
in love with evil, they will stand off and deride and say 
of all would-be reformers, that they are meddlers in other 
men’s matters, or they are fanatics, or cranks. It is bet¬ 
ter to be a crank than to suffer these sins to go unre¬ 
buked. But denunciations will be of no avail unless we 
can provide and persuade them that there is something 
better to be obtained in its stead. Before we can tempt 
the child of want and penury to leave its rude shelter, or 
part with its squalid rags, it must know of a better and 
a kindlier home. Before the prodigal will forsake his 
husks and swineherd rags and degradation, he must know 
of his father’s house and the abundant provision there. 
If we would keep our boys and young men from temp¬ 
tations to a downward life it will be when we tenderly 
and affectionately provide for them a better way. This 
can be done in the home better than anywhere else. 
Make the home attractive, and then keep it so, not so 
much by adding costly furniture, if you are not able to 
do this, but by maintaining a cheerful demeanor, and ex¬ 
hibiting at all times a loving heart. It is still true that 
“as the twig is bent the tree is inclined.” In nine cases 
out of ten the man will be the impress of the child. While 
love rules in every department of the home let no favor¬ 
itism be seen in the family circle towards one child, for 
if this is done it will be to the detriment of another. 
Children are extremely sensitive of the affection of their 
parents, and where favoritism is manifested, bad results 
are likely to follow. Study the bent and inclination of 
each child carefully, but in love treat all alike. 


116 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


Bishop Simpson in a sermon preached at the Chau¬ 
tauqua Sunday-school Assembly in the summer of 1874. 
said, “Diversity of training may account for diversity of 
mind.” He said, “I can fancy a boy coming into the 
world in the midst of a family where all is loveliness and 
beauty. His opening eyes rest upon a mother’s smile. 
He sees a father’s tender care, a singing bird awakes 
him at the morning light. There are to be found the 
perfume and beauty of flowers in the room and in the 
air. Order and neatness and love pervades the home. 
He loves the home in which he is. It is a beautiful world, 
and he learns easily. Another boy of the same mental 
power comes into the world. His first view is of a moth¬ 
er’s brow clouded with care and sorrow. A father’s 
harsh voice greets his ear, no forms of flowers or beauty 
are to be seen around him, but everything is repelling; 
discord prevails in the family. The boy becomes a mis¬ 
anthrope. He almost hates life and its surroundings, and 
the world to him is a world of woe. He will not have 
the heart to learn. The two minds will have different 
thoughts. They will not come to the study of nature in 
the same spirit. These boys growing up to manhood, 
will have different opinions because of their early train¬ 
ing and associations.” 

Force of character depends largely upon the right 
kind of training. Benjamin West said, “My mother’s 
kiss made me a painter.” A mansion with gilded orna¬ 
mentation and elegant furniture is not essential to an 
ideal home. Many a gilded palace with costly paintings 
hanging on its walls, and luxuries such as only wealth 
can provide, is fyr from being a home, while a cabin 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 117 

house with a thatched roof may be an ideal home. It is 
always and everywhere the heart that makes the atmos¬ 
phere of the home, and not the circumstances that make 
the heart. Many have been, and may be, happy, holy, 
and prosperous in a palace in the profession, the heart¬ 
felt profession of the religion of Jesus, while a man whose 
conscience is racked with a sense of guilt will be miser¬ 
able, place him where you will. If true friendship does 
not unite the hearts of the inmates, the place where they 
dwell will not be a home. In the model home love reigns 
and charity spreads her mantle over all. There peace and 
virtue have their habitation. It is the garden in which 
is grown all the graces that enter into a noble and beauti¬ 
ful life. Home in all the best regulated minds is as¬ 
sociated with moral and Christian training. As men 
and women rise in the scale of being, the more import¬ 
ant and interesting becomes the home. The most dis¬ 
tinguished statesmen, ministers, and benefactors of hu¬ 
man kind owe their goodness to the fostering care and 
influence of the home in which they lived. Napoleon is 
represented as saying, “What France needs is good moth¬ 
ers, and you may be sure that France will have good 
sons.” The homes of the American Revolution made the 
men of the Revolution what they were, and their influ¬ 
ence is seen and felt everywhere in the Constitution of 
our republic to-day. 

In the home the Spartan mother infused into the 
hearts of her sons that spirit of patriotism which led 
them to resolve, in the heat of battle either to live be¬ 
hind their shields, or to die upon them. Had such heroic 
patriotism been hallowed by the purity of the Christ-life 


118 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


what a power for good it would have become. But while 
the monuments of the Spartan mother’s virtues became 
the characteristics of her children, they were not the orna¬ 
ments of a meek and quiet spirit. Had the central 
thought of the Spartan mother’s heart been that of a 
Christian home then the noble deeds of the Spartan na¬ 
tion would now adorn the brightest page of history. The 
influence of the home is either for good or evil, a bless¬ 
ing, or a curse. It cannot be neutral. It is all-powerful, 
going with us through life, with its varied changes, cling¬ 
ing to us in death, and reaching into eternity with its 
momentous issues. A recent writer says, “The grand 
idea of home is a quiet, secluded spot where loving hearts 
dwell, set apart and dedicated to intellectual and moral 
improvement.” It is not a formal school of staid solem¬ 
nity and rigid discipline, where virtue is made a task, and 
progress a sharp necessity, but a free and easy exercise 
of all our spiritual limbs, in which obedience is a pleas¬ 
ure, discipline a joy, and improvement a self-wrought de¬ 
light. All the duties and labors of home, when rightly 
understood, are so many means of improvement. Even 
the trials of the home are so many rounds in the lad¬ 
der of spiritual progress if we but make them so. It 
is not merely by speaking to our children about better 
things, that we are to win them over to a better life. If 
that be all, it will accomplish nothing, less than noth¬ 
ing. It is the sentiments which they hear at home. It 
is the maxims which rule the daily conduct, the likings 
and dislikings which are expressed; the whole regulations 
of the household, in dress, and food, and furniture; the 
recreations indulged in, the company kept, the style of 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 119 

reading, the whole complexion of daily life, that creates 
the element in which your children are either growing in 
grace and being fitted for the life they are now living, 
and preparing for an eternity of blessedness; or they 
are learning to live without God, and to die without hope. 

The home should be the place of all others for cheer¬ 
ful and happy conversation. Parents should talk with 
their children, and talk with each other. One has said, 
“A father or mother, who is habitually silent in the home 
may be wise in some things, but they are not wise in 
their silence.” I have met with those who appeared to 
be the life of the company in which they moved outside; 
but in the home they were dull, morose, and silent among 
their children. My advice to such would be if they have 
not sufficient mental caliber to provide social entertain¬ 
ment for all, let them first provide for their own house¬ 
holds. Let them read Paul’s advice to Timothy, “But 
if any provide not for his own house, he hath denied the 
faith, and is worse than an infidel/’ We often hear ad¬ 
verse criticisms pronounced against certain families who 
v are in the habit of selling off all the luxuries produced 
on the farm or in the garden, while they themselves sub¬ 
sist on the bare necessities of life. Those families fare 
as badly who keep all their social charms for the out¬ 
side world, and reserve all their dullness, morose, and 
sour dispositions, for home consumption. Is it not vast¬ 
ly better to encourage your own children by providing 
profitable, and if need be, amusing entertainment, thus 
making the home happy and cheerful, rather than to 
reserve all these better qualities of your nature that you 
may amuse strangers abroad? A house where silence 


120 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


prevails is always a dull place for young people. They 
have an abhorrence of being shut up in such a place, and 
they are sure to escape from it if they can. The youth 
who does not love home is in great danger of being lost. 
The true mother is in love with her children. She es¬ 
teems it her greatest jov to care for and provide for 
them while under her roof, and after they have gone out 
to do for themselves. When her son comes home to her 
he may have grown until he is larger than his father but 
he is still her boy; he may have taken to himself a wife, 
but for all that he is her boy still. She is not in sym¬ 
pathy with the old rhyme, 

“Your son is your son till he gets him a wife, 

But vour daughter is vour daughter all the days of vour 
life.” 

Would you have your children come back to the old 
homestead, make that homestead pleasant for them in 
the days of their youth. “Train a rose bush to the hum¬ 
ble walls, and the scent and beauty will not be forgotten 
by the children.” The boy, instead of going out to seek 
those who indulge in evil pursuits, will sleep sweetly in 
his old bed, and in the morning go to his work refreshed 
and strengthened, carrying with him a firm resolve to 
honor the old home in which he lives, for everything 
about it is dear to his heart. Your daughter, though 
perhaps by marriage has been placed in a happy home 
of her own, does not forget the old one. Make the home 
a place of happiness and joy, because of the loving hearts 
who dwell there, and when your children go out into the 
world to battle for themselves they will carry along with 
them the conviction that there is no place in all the earth 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 121 

more sacred than the old homestead. As the years go 
by there will come a time when the old house may be 
torn down or lost to the children, it may be that father 
and mother have passed on to the mansions above, but 
it will still live in their memories. They will not forget 
the kind looks and tender words expressing the thought¬ 
ful love of those who once dwelt there. You may rest as¬ 
sured these will not pass away. 

“You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will, 

But the scent of the roses will cling to it still.” 

One reason why so many become dissipated and go 
out to find amusements elsewhere no matter what the 
character of these amusements may be, making every 
possible excuse for so doing, is because of the lack of 
love and entertainment at home. But while it is true 
that very much of man’s success and happiness depends 
upon the character of his early home, some who have 
been trained under hallowed influences go out to fall un¬ 
der the stress of powerful temptations, or by accident. 
Stern law lays hold of them, and they are to be found 
shut up among the criminal class in our prisons and 
penitentiaries. But their numbers are comparatively few 
compared with those who have never been known to have 
a home, but have been reared in the midst of degrada¬ 
tion, vice, and crime. Multiplied thousands in our large 
cities and elsewhere, have never known what it was to 
have a home, a Christian mother’s care, or a father’s ten¬ 
der regard. It is from this class, largely, that our penal 
institutions are kept full and often crowded. What shall 
be done with this large class of poor unfortunates ? They 


123 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


never had a chance, and if they, remain where they are 
they never will have a chance. 

Penologists are divided as to the causes leading in¬ 
to crime. Two views are entertained. The first is that 
of heredity, the other that of environment. Strong argu¬ 
ments are presented by the advocates of both these prop¬ 
ositions. When we consider the vast numbers in our 
large cities who are crowded into old tenement houses 
without the daily comforts of life, living in attics and 
hovels, where grinning want looks out of windows stuffed 
with rags, and vice and degradation reigns within, and 
children clothed in tattered garments of filthy rags, with 
pinched and poverty stricken faces cry for bread, we can 
but conclude that children born of parents thus degen¬ 
erate, whose ancestors were of a like class, on the prin¬ 
ciple that like begets like, may, and do partake of the 
nature of those by whom they were begotten, and be¬ 
cause of their inheritance enter upon criminal pursuits 
from the beginning. I am not fully prepared to say 
just how this may be, but I am sure that growing 
up in the midst of such evil associations has much 
more to do with shaping their destiny than any other 
cause. 

In the penitentiary, while visiting from cell to cell, I 
have taken special pains to find out from the convicts 
themselves the causes leading to their incarceration. And 
the answer given, with very few exceptions, was bad com¬ 
pany, or evil associations, and in nine cases out of ten, 
the saloon and its surroundings was given as the source 
of their downfall. Mr. George Torrence, Superintendent 
of Illinois Reformatory presented a paper before the Na- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


123 


tional Prison Congress, held in Cleveland, in which he 
•claimed that after the most thorough investigation he 
had come to the conclusion that less than ten per cent 
of the criminals are led into crime by hereditary taint. 
This statement coincides with the opinion of Judge Tut- 
hill of Chicago, as reported and given in the Chicago pa¬ 
pers at the time of its utterance. “But how about the 
born criminals, Judge?” “The what? Born criminals! 
There are no born criminals! If I believed that, I should 
lose my faith in God. Society makes criminals; envir¬ 
onments and education make criminals, but they are not 
born such.” “Do you believe then, that your children, 
if their environments were the same, would commit the 
same offences as those children who appear daily be¬ 
fore you?” “I don't think it, I know it, I know it.” If 
these statements are true, as I believe they are, because 
they are confirmed by my own experience and observa¬ 
tion, then ninety per cent of the crimes of this country 
must be accounted for from other causes. The opinion 
is becoming more and more prevalent, that crime is not 
so much the result of heredity as environment. I have 
a case in hand showing how wicked, self-seeking, and 
designing men do sometimes lead children astray, and 
lay for them the foundations for a wretched life. A pris¬ 
oner came to my house one morning in the month of 
April, 1902. He had been paroled that morning from 
the Indiana State Prison, where he had been serving a 
sentence of from one to three years. He told me this 
was his third term in the penitentiary. I had secured 
for him a situation on a farm where he was to remain 
until the expiration of his parole. While waiting for his 


124 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


employer to come after him he gave me this story of 
his past life: 

“I have been a thief,” he said, ‘‘nearly all my days. 
I was trained up in the profession. My father died when 
I was a mere child. My mother seemed to have no real 
love for me. She sent me to a Catholic school when I 
was about the age of six or seven years. From this 
school I ran away and returned to my mother, where I 
remained for a short time, when I was again started back 
to school. I had learned to abhor the school and could 
not think of going back there, so I ran away and re¬ 
solved to do for myself, but I was unfortunate in that 
I fell into the hands of bad men who followed thieving 
for a living. They were not only thieves themselves, but 
employed others to steal for them. They had three other 
boys in their employ, I making the fourth. These men 
provided us with shelter, fed, and clothed us, and let us 
have a little pocket money, while we were expected to 
pick the pockets of other people and hand over to them 
what we got. They would take us to fairs, shows, and 
other large gatherings, where we were expected to watch 
our opportunities for picking, and gather up whatever 
we could of value without being detected. I was ar¬ 
rested at times and thrown into jail along with other, 
older and worse, criminals. While there I listened to 
these men as they related their experience in criminal 
pursuits; and laid my plans for future depredations; and 
after I went out it was not long before I became an ex¬ 
pert in pocket-picking, and an adept in all manner of 
thieving. My reputation became such that when I tried 
to reform I was looked upon with suspicion and was 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 125 

tried for crimes of which I knew nothing. Once when 
sent to the penitentiary by the police court, I was dis¬ 
charged at the end of six months, it having been found 
out that I was innocent of the crime for which I had 
been sentenced. I have served three terms in the peni¬ 
tentiary, but have now made up my mind to lead a bet¬ 
ter life from this on. As for the three boys who were 
my companions in crime, two of them turned out to be 
horse thieves and are now serving terms in the peniten¬ 
tiary. My constant companions were inebriates, thieves, 
and gamblers.” 

What could we expect from men growing up from 
childhood in the midst of such associations but that they 
would live to become a plague to society, and a curse to 
themselves? After dinner I gave this man some kindly 
advice as to his future conduct, which he promised to 
take and observe. I then delivered him over to his em¬ 
ployer, and he went away to serve out his parole, and 
may we hope to live a better life. 

It is a source of great satisfaction to know that earn¬ 
est efforts are being made (more than ever before), for 
the rescue and saving of this large class of poor unfor¬ 
tunates. And home-finding institutions are being or¬ 
ganized all over the land, and especially in our large 
cities, for the care of helpless mothers, the reformation 
of discharged and paroled prisoners, and the placing of 
destitute children in families where they may be trained 
for usefulness and good citizenship. 

Edward Julian, in an article published in one of the 
Chicago papers some time ago, gave an account of the 
workings of the Chicago Home-finding Association, sit- 


126 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


uated at 6848 Anthony Avenue. This association was or¬ 
ganized in 1897, since which time home life has been 
secured for three hundred and forty-five children, eighty- 
four youths, two hundred and forty-eight mothers, each 
with a child, and for fifty-two ex-prisoners. He says 
many poor adults have been placed in homes where they 
could pay their way; and that the experience of the man¬ 
agement coincides with that of many similar institutions; 
the demand for little girls can hardly be supplied fast 
enough, while bright, intelligent boys are frequently left 
on their hands for a long time, sometimes to be returned 
to a poor farm in some little village because of a lack of 
funds to keep them at the institution. He says that a 
record of all contributions is printed in a little paper pub¬ 
lished monthly and credited on the books, which are 
open at all times for inspection. The officers serve with¬ 
out pay. Many people desire to adopt a child if the 
right one can be found. A large number of those who 
adopt and care for these children are those who have 
lost little ones, or elderly people whose children have 
grown out of their homes. Sometimes two children are 
taken into the same family, then the joy of these at be¬ 
ing permitted to remain together is very touching. Most 
of those received into the temporary home are very des¬ 
titute in the way of wearing apparel, but none are sent 
out until they are well clad. Believing that crime is 
never so much the result of heredity as of environment, 
the Association is directing its efforts towards helping 
the youths, the boys and girls, to home influence and 
sympathy. It is conceded that young people brought up 
under the kindly influences of home life and love, are 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 127 

less likely to yield to temptations and turn aside into 
evil pursuits, and so these are the ones most sought aft¬ 
er by those having employment for them. No one is 
willing to employ the inmates of a reformed school, or 
a discharged or a paroled prisoner, while others of good 
character are to be had. As one has said there really 
seems to be no decent chance for these unfortunate ones 
to exist in this world. The American Home-finding As¬ 
sociation is anxious that homes be founded for these men, 
in different parts of the country, where they may stay 
when destitute and out of employment, thus removing 
one of the greatest incentives to crime. 

It is estimated that there is now in this country a 
prison population of about 280,000, or nearly double the 
number of ten years ago. This means that one in every 
five hundred of our citizens is an ex-convict. An aver¬ 
age of more than one a day is discharged. These will 
have tO' be furnished employment, and many are not will¬ 
ing to employ them until they have proved themselves 
worthy. The advanced method, adopted for the refor¬ 
mation of criminals, and for saving outcast children in 
large cities and elsewhere, is positive proof that great 
advancement has been made during the last decade, and 
has become a marked feature in showing the moral stand¬ 
ing, as well as the intelligence of the closing years of the 
Nineteenth Century. 

General Brinkerhoof, ex-president of the National 
Prison Congress, in his report to that congress, during 
the fall of 1900, spoke of the kindergarten as useful in 
striking at the root of crime; especially as he found it 
in California under the supervision of Mrs. Iceland Stan- 


128 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


ford, where ’out of 9,000 graduates of these private kin¬ 
dergartens not a single one had been arrested for crime. 
What an argument, this, for the right kind of kinder¬ 
garten teaching in all our public and private schools in 
all the states. He also spoke of orphan asylums as great 
nurseries of virtue, for homeless children, for whose care 
they exist. And he claimed that the work of these in¬ 
stitutions is invaluable, as compared with that of the 
public schools. He spoke of children’s aid societies, and 
children’s homes as being of great benefit in the saving 
of children. Illinois at that time had twenty-two of these 
societies, and like organizations exist and are being es¬ 
tablished in many of the states of the Union. He said 
further that the most beneficent part of their work was 
in placing uncared for children in good homes where 
they are treated and educated as members of the family. 
Thus the great benefit of home life is recognized by all. 

What is Home? Recently a London magazine sent 
out 1,000 inquiries on the question. In selecting the 
classes to respond to the question it was particular to 
see that every one was represented. The poorest and 
the richest were given equal opportunity to express their 
sentiments. Out of 800 replies received seven gems were 
selected as follows: 

(1) Home—A world of strife shut out, a 
world of love shut in. 

(2) Home—The place where the small 
are great, and the great are small. 

(3) Home—The father’s kingdom, the 
mother’s world, and the child’s paradise. 

(4) Home—The place where we grum¬ 
ble most, and are treated the best. 





LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 129 

( 5 ) Home—the center of our affec¬ 
tions round which our heart’s best wishes 
twine. 

(6) Home—The plaee where our stom¬ 
achs get three square meals daily and our 
hearts a thousand. 

( 7 ) Home—The only place on earth 
where the faults and failings of humanity 
are hidden under the sweet mantle of char¬ 
ity. 

I close this chapter by quoting from the biennial re¬ 
port of Geo. A. H. Shidler, ex-warden of the Indiana 
State Prison, made October 31, 1900. 

The cause of crime is an unsolved prob¬ 
lem ; but to the care of the youth we should 
look, for from them shall come crime, re¬ 
morse, and disappointments in the future. 

The parent management of orphan asylums, 
reform schools, and reformatories can be 
of great value toward checking this whirl¬ 
wind of crime and dissipation. Look after 
the youth; teach them honor, and self¬ 
esteem. Do not let the seeking after wealth 
so occupy your mind as to rob you of that 
which money cannot buy, but on the other 
hand, counsel, and advise, and instead of 
always stern reprimand, forgive occasion¬ 
ally, and make your child your confidant, 
and you will be doing the greatest work set 
out for you to do: namely, protecting your 
offspring from the pitfalls that lead to the 
prison door, there long hours and weary 
days, to repent of the mistakes made. 

Let us as prison officials, teachers, min¬ 
isters of the gospel, parents and good citi¬ 
zens, renew ourselves to this work, that 
peace and happiness may prevail in every 
home, and heart aches and crime become 
strangers to our people. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE BOY CONVICT’S STORY. 

By Permission of the Author, Wife Careeton. 


I’d rather sit here, Mr. Sheriff—up near to the end of the car; 

We won’t do so much advertising if we stay in the seat where 
we are. 

That sweet little dude saw the bracelets that you on my wrists 
have bestowed. 

And tells the new passengers promptly you’re “taking me over 
the road.” 

I’ve had a well-patronized trial—the neighbors all know of 
my fall; 

But when I get out among strangers I’m sensitive-like, after all. 

For I was a lad of good prospects, some three or four summers 
ago— 

There wasn’t any boy in our township who made a more prom¬ 
ising show! 

I learned all of Solomon’s proverbs, and took in their good¬ 
ness and worth, 

Till I felt like a virtue-hooped barrel, chock-full of the salt of 
the earth. 

And this precious picnic of sorrow would likely enough have 
been saved, 

If I had had less of a heart, sir, or home had contained what 
it craved. 

For the time when a boy is in danger of walking a little bit 
wild, 

Is when he’s too young to be married—-too old to be known 
as a child; 

A bird in the lonely grass thickets, just out of the parent 
tree thrown, 

Too large to be kept in the old nest—too small to have one 
of his own; 

When, desolate ’mid his companions, his soul is a stake to be 
won; x 

’Tis then that the Devil stands ready to get a good chance 
to catch on! 

Oh, yes! I’d a good enough home, sir, so far as the house 
was concerned; 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 131 

My parents were first-class providers—I ate full as much as 
I earned. 

My clothes were all built of good timber, and fit every day 
to be seen; 

There wasn’t any lock on the pantry—my bedroom was tidy 
and clean; 

And taking the home up and down, sir, I’d more than an 
average part. 

With one quite important exception—there wasn’t any room 
for my heart. 


The house couldn’t have been any colder with snowdrifts in 
every room! 

The house needn’t have been any darker to make a respecta¬ 
ble tomb! 

I used to stop short on the door-step, and brace up a minute 
or more, 

And bid a good-bye to the sunshine, before I would open the 
door; 

I used to feed daily on icebergs—take in all the freeze I could 
hold— 

Then go out and warm in the sunshine, because my poor heart 
was so cold! 

And hadn’t I a father and mother? Oh yes! just as good as 
they make— 

Too good, I have often suspected (though maybe that last’s 
a mistake). 

But they’d travelled So long and so steady the way to perfec¬ 
tion’s abode, 

They hadn’t any feeling for fellows who could not as yet find 
the road; 

And so, till some far-advanced mile-post on goodness’s pike I 
could win, 

They thought of me, not as their own child, but one of the 
children of sin. 


And hadn’t I brothers and sisters? Oh yes, till they some¬ 
what had grown; 

Then, shivering, they went off and left me to stand the cold 
weather alone. 

For I had the luck to be youngest—the last on the family page, 

The one to prop up the old roof-tree—the staff of my parent’s 
old age; 

Who well understood all the uses to which a mere staff is ap¬ 
plied: 

They used me whenever convenient—then carelessly threw me 
aside! 


132 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


And hadn’t I any associates? Oh yes! I had friends more or 
less, 

But seldom I asked them to visit our house with the slightest 


success; 

Whenever the project was mentioned, they’d somehow look blue¬ 
like and chill. 

And mention another engagement they felt it their duty to 
fill; 

For—now I am only a convict, there’s no harm in telling the 
truth— 

My home was a fearful wet blanket to blood that was seasoned 
with youth! 


Not one blessed thing that was cheerful; no festivals, frolics, 
or games; 

No novels of any description—’twas wicked to mention their 
names! 

My story-books suddenly vanished; my checker-boards never 
would keep; 

No newspaper came through our doorway unless it was first 
put to sleep! 

And as for love—well, that old song, sir, is very melodious 
and fine, 

With “No place like home” in the chorus—I hope there ain’t 
many like mine! 

And so, soon my body got hating a place which my soul couldn’t 
abide, 

And Pleasure was all the time smiling, and motioning me to 
her side; 

And when I start out on a journey, I’m likely to go it by 
leaps, 

For good or for bad, I’m no half-way—I’m one or the other 
for keeps. 

My wild oats flew thicker and faster—I reaped the same crop 
that I sowed, 

And now I am going to market—I’m taking it over the road! 

Yes, it grieved my good father and mother to see me so sadly 
astray, 

They deeply regretted my downfall—in a strictly respectable 
way; 

They gave me some more admonition, and sent me off full of 
advice, 

And wondered to see such a villain from parents so good and 
precise. 

Indeed I have often conjectured, when full of neglect and its 
smarts, 

I must have been left on the door-step of their uncongenial 
hearts! 


ia.ivno ao iioijihiki 
























LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 135 

My home in the prison is waiting—it opens up clear to my 
sight; 

Hard work and no pay-day a-coming, a close cell to sleep in 
at night. 

And there I must lie sad and lonesome, with more tribulation 
than rest. 

And wake in the morning with sorrow sharp sticking like 
steel in my breast; 

But maybe the strain and the trouble won’t quite so much o’er 
me prevail, 

As ’twould be to some one who wasn’t brought up in a kind of 
a jail! 

You’ve got a good home, Mr. Sheriff, with everything cosey 
and nice. 

And ’tisn’t for a wrist-shackled convict to offer you words of 
advice; 

But this I must say, of all places your children may visit or 
call. 

Make Home the most pleasant and happy—the sweetest and 
best of them all; 

For the Devil won’t offer a dollar to have his world-chances 
improved, 

When Home is turned into a side-show, with half the attrac¬ 
tions removed! 

Don’t think I’m too bitter, good sheriff—I like you: you’ve 
been very good; 

I’m ever and ever so grateful—woulu pay it all back if I could. 

I didn’t mean to slander my parents—I’ve nothing against their 
good name. 

And as for my unrighteous actions, it’s mostly myself that’s 
to blame; 

Still, if I’d had a home— But the prison is only one station 
ahead— 

I’m done, Mr. Sheriff; forget me. but don’t forget what I’ve 
said! 





CHAPTER IX. 

HOW, UNDER TRYING CIRCUMSTANCES, WE MAY INFLU 
ENCE OTHERS FOR GOOD. 

Written for This Book by a Life Convict. 

That the power of good influence is never wasted, if 
applied with tact, was well illustrated in the following 
story, written by a prisoner, a life man, who was one 
of the parties to the event, and handed me by the writer 
himself, while I was chaplain in the Indiana State 1 rison 
at Michigan City. I give it for the most part in the 
writer’s own words, as a chapter in the life of a young 
man. 

“John Kline was an Indianapolis boy, a member of the 
famous Boo Gang. He could read and write well, and 
had some knowledge of geography. He had traveled 
some, after a manner, and was a possessor of an alert 
mind and a strong body. He was of German descent. 
On the night of November 7, 1895; I had become a pris¬ 
oner of no little notoriety, both outside and inside of 
prison walls. I was assigned to cell number 19 on three 
A. This was Kline’s cell, and we were to be cell-mates. 
When I arrived there I was worn in mind and body, and 
broken in spirit. Kline was somewhat discomfited to 
find himself so closely associated with one who had been 
so well known, and whose pretentions to a pure and up¬ 
right life had everywhere been conceded by those who 
had known him, but who was now charged with crime, 
and was to share his cell. The first evening, however, 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 137 

was spent in pleasant conversation about things in gen¬ 
eral. The next day his associates said to him, ‘Well, 
you have got H— for a cell-mate, have you? Did he 
make you get down on your prayer bones?’ ‘Did you 
forget and swear before him, Kline?’ ‘Oh, he’ll make 
a Sunday-school boy out of you.’ ‘Boys, be careful what 
you say before Kline, he’s reformed, and gone off with 
good company’; and such like remarks almost without 
number. But Kline only smiled at their remarks, and 
reminded them that some of their number had expressed 
a desire the day before, that they might have this new 
friend for a room-mate. 

“Despite the criticisms offered by one after another, 
as the days and weeks went by, a warm friendship grew 
up between us. Kline never failed to show the greatest 
respect and deepest affection for his partner; and it was 
not long until he had unraveled his whole life story to 
him. He had belonged to a good and respectable fam¬ 
ily, but had by bad associations become bad himself. He 
had traveled, tramped, and stolen as opportunity offered; 
he had learned to despise the ‘cops,’ and to look upon 
law as his enemy. Didn’t know anything about God, 
and having never mingled with pure women, doubted 
whether there was such a thing as virtue in the world. 
Just such a character as he presented of himself I had 
never met, and such a life as he had lived was to me a 
revelation. He told me of things I had never heard of, 
and of sins, (common sins), I did not know were in the 
category of crimes. One evening after Kline had spoken 
of the small number of days he had spent in prison, and 
the large number he had yet to serve of the eleven months 


138 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


for which he had been sentenced I repeated to him the 
last stanza of Longfellow’s Psalm of Life, 

Let us then be up and doing 
With a heart for any fate: 

Still achieving, still pursuing, 

Learn to labor, and to wait. 

“ ‘That’s pretty fine,’ he said, ‘got any more like it ?’ 
I then told him what it was, and where I had gotten it. 

“ ‘Well,’ said Kline, ‘I’ll just put that on my list, and 
get the book. I wish you would say it all to me.’ I 
then repeated the whole poem to him. 

“ ‘By Jing, if I could say that much poetry, I’d be 
saying all the time. How long did it take you to learn 
that?’ 

“ ‘Oh, probably about two hours,’ I said. 

“ ‘It’d take me two months,’ he replied. 

“ ‘No, no,’ I said, ‘If you want to learn it you can 
know it all by to-morrow night at bed time, I am sure.’ 

“ ‘Will you learn it to me ?’ 

“Certainly, I will help you to learn it.’ 

“We then and there began the task, and sure enough 
by bed time the following night, he knew it all thor¬ 
oughly ; and seldom an evening passed after that when 
he did not repeat a part or the whole of it. He was de¬ 
lighted with his success, and wanted to learn more poetry; 
and more poetry he did learn, including Thanatopsis, 
The Bare Foot Boy, Barbara Fritchie, Song of Hiawatha, 
Casabianca, and short miscellaneous poems, and snatch¬ 
es of verse: in fact everything I knew. He learned with 
great enthusiasm. A new world opened up to him. He 
drank in its sweetness, and was charmed with its beauty. 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 139 

With a pencil, which I was permitted to carry being a 
clerk in one of the offices, and scraps of paper he could 
pick up, he began the study of mathematics, and in a 
short time had gained considerable proficiency. He 
thought it a wonderful science. Fractions amazed him 
as would a puzzle. Percentage captivated him, and Foss 
and Gain, he thought was wonderful. He was above all 
things practical, and would make problems of his own 
and solve them, and then chuckle with delight. He was 
proud of the knowledge he was gaining, and expected 
to make use of it in the future. Kline liked to ask ques¬ 
tions along the line of historical s'ubjects and characters, 
and would sit quietly, all ears, to hear the story of Hous¬ 
ton, or Webster, or Franklin. When an evening of such 
conversation was over, lying on his narrow cot in his 
prison cell, he would repeat, 

“Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime.” 

“One night after we had crawled into our bunks, 
which were arranged one above another, Kline in sub¬ 
dued tones said to me, ‘Say, you aint the kind of a man 
I thought you was/ 

“ ‘Why ?’ I asked. 

“‘Well, I expected you would talk to me about noth¬ 
ing but religion, and every night you would say a great 
long solemn prayer that would make the cold chills run 
over me,’ he replied. 

“ ‘You have never talked to me upon a subject in 
which I expressed no interest,’ said I. ‘Why should I show 
less courtesy to you? As to my prayers, they are neither 


140 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

long, nor shocking, and can as well be said, lying here 
on my back as kneeling on the cold stone floor.’ 

“ ‘Well,’ said the young man, ‘I have been thinking 
a great deal about God here lately, and there are two 
things I would like to ask you, What good could it do 
us, lor God to send His Son into the world to die ? Then 
I want to know how a fellow gets converted?’ 

“I replied, ‘I’ll tell you, Kline, I have a book in my 
telescope there, that will answer anything you want tc 
know along that line. It is called Positive Theology. 
Would you like to read it?’ 

“Kline said he certainly would if it would answer his 
questions. At the same time if there ever was an ignor¬ 
ant chump about religion, it certainly was himself. The 
next night he began reading the book. He soon became 
profoundly interested: Frequently he would stop reading 
to comment on some paragraph, or to ask the meaning 
of some word or theological expression. While reading 
the chapter on the Atonement, his expressions of wonder 
and reverence were most frequent. He read the chapter 
on Repentance, and the one on Regeneration, with un¬ 
abated interest. When he had finished reading, he de¬ 
clared he never thought such a book existed. ‘It is 
all so wonderful, and it is so simple too,’ he would 
say. 

“ ‘Isn’t a man a fool that will live such a life as I have 
lived in the face of all this? I’m not going to make any 
demonstrations about it’, he said, one night as we sat in 
our lonely cell, Tut I'm done. You’ll never hear me 
swear any more, and when I get out of here I intend to 
live a sober respectable life.’ 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 141 

“We continued to cell together, during the whole win¬ 
ter, and to share each other’s confidence. The following 
April Kline was discharged. The night before he was re¬ 
leased he borrowed my pencil to do some writing; when 
he had finished and carefully folded the note, and placed 
it in my Bible, he said, ‘To-morrow night when you 
come in here, I will not be with you; I can’t trust myself 
to say it to you.’ 

“Here is the note in part: April 4, 1896.My 

dear friend,.The first part of the note was used in 

expressing his exalted opinion of his friend, and the ob¬ 
ligations he himself felt toward him. He then continues, 

‘When I leave this prison, it will be with 
better purposes and higher motives than 
I had when I entered it. I have resolved to 
quit roaming around the country in an aim¬ 
less manner; to get work and settle down, 
and to do all in my power to make the de¬ 
clining years of my aged mother happy. 

Mine has been a checkered career utterly 
void of any principle. I have led a wicked 
and reckless life, but now with the help 
of the sustaining hand of the Almighty, I 
will lead a respectable life. May the God 
whom you so faithfully trust and serve, soon 
remove the cloud hovering over you, is my 
earnest prayer. 

‘Resp’t. John Kline.’ 

“Kline has faithfully kept his vow, and is today a so¬ 
ber, industrious young man; showing daily the evidence 
of a firm Christian character.” 




CHAPTER X. 


HOW I BECAME A CONVICT 
By a Convict. 

My purpose in writing this unvarnished tale is not 
to give to myself notoriety, nor to pose as a man with 
a terrible experience. If perchance some young man will 
read these lines, and then change his course, part of my 
object will have been attained. I say part, for my ob¬ 
ject is of a two-fold nature. I trust that to the reader 
this will be plain after having read this brief and crude 
story 

I was born September 21, 1869, in the town of Mem¬ 
phis, Tennessee. Being the only child I enjoyed many 
advantages that kind and loving parents provide for 
their children. Unfortunately, my father, who was a 
prominent physician, and my mother, who was a noble 
woman, both died of yellow fever during the epidemic 
of 1878. So at the age of nine years I found myself an 
orphan, with practically nothing in the shape of means 
to face the world. As is frequently the case, father, who 
was a good physician, was a poor business man; while 
he had thousands of dollars in accounts owing to the 
chaotic condition following the terrible scourge but very 
little could be collected. My age no doubt softened the 
blow of sudden bereavement, for I realized more fully 
the loss of my parents in after years. Being well ad¬ 
vanced in general studies for one of my years, thanks 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


143 


to my noble mother, I determined to allow future school¬ 
ing to wait until I had assumed a fortune, then to devote 
my time and training to securing a medical education ; 
for my ambition was to become a doctor. The possi¬ 
bility of failing to secure this wealth never for a moment 
presented itself to my mind. Not having any relatives 
to take an interest in me I fully followed my own incli¬ 
nations. 

My first step in quest of wealth was a journey to Nash¬ 
ville, Tennessee, where I became a newsboy. After an 
experience of nearly a week, I was most unexpectedly 
discovered by an old friend of my father’s, who had 
served as sergeant in the same command during the Civil 
War. This man adopted me, somewhat to my sorrow 
at first, but he and his wife being childless, they offered 
me a home, which after some hesitation I accepted. Here 
my life was devoid of excitement, and without the at¬ 
tractions a willful boy of my age thought absolutely ne¬ 
cessary, yet I remained with these people eight years. 
I had in the meantime accumulated two hundred dollars, 
and was capable of earning twelve dollars weekly as a 
journeyman printer. The alluring prospects of the world, 
coupled with a lively imagination and restless spirit on 
my part, were too much for me. So I bade the old cou¬ 
ple good bye, and started for Chicago, where I began 
work with a future as bright as sunshine. 

Here I wish to mention some of the habits I had 
formed. Since the death of my parents I had not en¬ 
tered a church. I had learned card-playing, and spent 
most of my idle time in this dangerous practice. My 
father never used tobacco nor drank liquor, yet he con- 


144 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

sidered poker a gentlemanly game. I soon wearied of 
Chicago, and then began a, tour of the country. I was 
seldom without work, for the first thing I did after reach¬ 
ing a town was to look for a job. My earnings I spent in 
sight seeing, or card-playing. To prevent a misconcep¬ 
tion of my words, I will add by sight-seeing I mean noth¬ 
ing immoral—simply wandering about the city. Places 
of evil resort, aside from gambling hells, had but little 
attraction for me. 

In this way the years slipped away, and I found my¬ 
self on my twenty-fifth birthday without a dollar. I then 
made an ironclad resolution to give up gambling. Just 
two weeks previous I had taken stock and found I had 
four hundred dollars; this I thought was not quite enough 
to carry me through the first year of college. I wanted 
five hundred dollars, and in trying to obtain it I lost all. 
My reflections were anything but pleasant, but I con¬ 
tinued at work and when the college term began I had 
enough money to pay the matriculation fee only. I at¬ 
tended regularly and worked evenings in a job office. 
Finally I began working Saturdays also, and thus earned 
from seven to nine dollars each week. Holiday week 
instead of going home to eat turkey, as my classmates 
did, I worked steadily, and lived at one of those bless¬ 
ings of the poor man, a lunch counter. The term be¬ 
ing ended, I at once left Chicago for a small inland 
town. Here, thought I, no temptations will trouble me. 
I secured a situation at a fair salary, spent my even¬ 
ings in study, and attended church on Sundays. How 
often I congratulated myself that summer it is needless 
to say; I would have sufficient funds by October to pay 




LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 145 

my tuition fee in advance, and perhaps a trifle for emerg¬ 
encies. 

One day while depositing a small sum of money in 
the village bank, I was asked by the cashier to step into 
the private room in the rear. Here I found the pro¬ 
prietor, who was a deacon in the church I attended. Nat¬ 
urally enough I expected a little talk on church matters, 
or perhaps an invitation to unite with the church, or at 
least some spiritual instruction. Imagine my astonish¬ 
ment when the good man began talking about the price 
of mess pork on the Board of Trade of Chicago. He 
then went on to explain the matter fully, and showed 
how I could double my capital in a few days, and how 
he had made three thousand in ten days. I felt that if 
this man who prayed so earnestly every Sunday (and per¬ 
haps oftener) could do this in safety, certainly I would 
be doing no wrong to invest just a part of my savings. 
Of course I would not risk all. Something I had ex¬ 
perienced the previous winter warned me to be careful. 
I invested a hundred dollars, and in three weeks we 
closed the deal, my share of the profits being in the neigh¬ 
borhood of eighty dollars. Then I invested two hun¬ 
dred dollars, throwing aside all caution and warnings. 
The price began to rise. I became so excited as to be 
unfit for work. I asked and obtained leave of absence 
for a week. I spent nearly all of that time in the little 
back room of the bank. Here we received the telegrams 
containing market reports. 

One morning the papers contained a startling bit of 
information, the market had slumped. The Bears were 
about to destroy their opponents in the pit. There was 


146 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


going to be a squeeze. When our brokers finally com¬ 
municated with us, it was to ask us to cover our margins 
at once. Then my advisors came to my assistance. “You 
must telegraph fifty dollars to Chicago at once.” I did 
so. Again came the notice, again went the fifty dollars. 
The market went down, not steadily but in a series of, 
to me, nerve-racking jumps. I presented my check for 
fifty dollars one morning, when the cashier informed me 
that my account was already overdrawn two dollars and 
fifty cents. I knew I must have this money at once or 
lose all, so I asked for the bank proprietor. He was at 
home, I learned. I waited impatiently until he arrived, 
when I laid the matter before him, when he coldly in¬ 
formed me that on good security he would loan me the 
necessary funds. He might as well have demanded a 
trip to the moon. I grew frantic with vexation as the 
time for saving my deal slipped away. I finally offered 
the entire amount to this man if lie would take it off 
my hands, in case the market revived, and retain the bal¬ 
ance himself whatever profit accrued. He politely re¬ 
fused. In three days prices so far advanced as to have 
made a profit of some three hundred dollars had I been 
able to carry on the transaction. I found myself once 
more penniless, and this time with a feeling of sullen 
hatred toward mankind in general, and bank presidents 
and church officers in particular. 

Of course attending college that winter was out of 
the question. I read less, went out more frequently, and 
finally with a feeling that matters could not be much 
worse I again began gambling. In this village a certain 
coterie of congenial spirits met several times each week, 




LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 147 

especially on Saturday nights and Sunday mornings to 
play poker. I continued these meetings, sometimes with 
profit, then again with loss. So the winter wore away; 
spring came and part of the following summer passed, 
when I began to think again of my college term. These 
thoughts were really induced by meeting a young man 
who had been a former classmate. I determined at once 
as to my future action, and attended college the follow¬ 
ing winter. After this time I worked steadily during the 
summer, and without further escapades I passed my final 
year and was graduated, June, 1896. 

During the summer of that year I secured an agency, 
working with the idea of locating the following fall. In 
December I registered in Indianapolis and began the 
practice of my profession. Here occurred a change in 
my general line of thought. I had become acquainted 
with a young lady who awakened in me all those noble 
resolutions to become a man, usually inspired by the love 
of a pure woman. That she reciprocated my love I felt 
certain. My ambition to succeed at once grew to such 
magnitude as to cause immense restlessness. I became 
dissatisfied with my dingy office. I felt I must go out 
into the world and force Dame Fortune’s favor. I lost 
what prudence and, I might add, also what patience I 
had. 

About this time, the world was startled by that al¬ 
most incredible tale of gold discoveries in Alaska. I 
at once grasped this as a drowning man catches at a 
straw. I would go to the Klondike, and in a year or 
two return wealthy. While making preparations for the 
journey, I became acquainted with a young man who 


148 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


also intended making a fortune in the frozen North. In 
the course of our acquaintance he invited me to his home. 
His family were wealthy people and consisted of his fath¬ 
er, mother, and sister. I remained some days a guest 
of these people, and entered into an agreement with the 
young man that we should become partners in the expe¬ 
dition. In February, 1897, we landed in Port Valdes, 
Alaska. Of our adventures in search for gold it is need¬ 
less to speak; it will suffice to say that we met with no 
actual success. I was fortunate enough to earn suffi¬ 
cient for both, my partner not having any means aside 
from his provisions. Our stock of provisions was quite 
enough to last one person eight months, but exceedingly 
small for two men to subsist on during the winter. It 
was decided that I should return to the States, leaving 
him with my share of clothing, provisions, and tools, to 
work our claims the following year. He was at that time 
nine hundred dollars in debt to me for money advanced, 
aside from clothing, provisions, etc. This amount he 
promised to pay the following year. 

In the mean time I had received numbers of letters 
from the young man’s sister. These letters had grown 
rapidly to become of a sentimental character, until the 
last one I received just before embarking for the home 
voyage was literally an offer of marriage. I arrived in 
the United States in October, and immediately visited 
my affianced at her home. I contented myself with sim¬ 
ply writing my partner’s family. I declined an invitation, 
sent in return to visit them. Here I was again, penniless, 
after a most desperate struggle for this elusive wealth. 
My affianced being of a more deliberate and practical 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


149 


turn of mind, advised against my engaging in any further 
rainbow-chasing. Heeding her advice I at once applied 
for and secured a position in Central Hospital for the 
Insane. 

I had been here but a few rhonths, when temptation 
again assailed me. The mother of my partner called on 
me. After chiding me for not calling on the family, she 
produced a letter from her son, stating among other 
things his indebtedness to me, and asking his parents 
to settle this account at once that I might return to 
Alaska. I became enlisted at once, for I knew that with 
a small capital I could return to Alaska and settle in 
some mining town and practice my profession, this be¬ 
ing a more certain method of securing a share of the 
dust than the most uncertain and dangerous one of pros¬ 
pecting. I accepted the offer, but received only about 
one-half of the sum due me. Calling upon my fiancee I 
gently informed her of my plans. She was quite serious¬ 
ly opposed to my again returning to this far away coun¬ 
try. However, before my departure, she presented me 
with a money belt containing our joint earnings of three 
hundred dollars, and insisted on my accepting this for an 
emergency. The night after, I bade her farewell, called 
at the home of my partner’s family, received the five hun¬ 
dred dollars and departed for Chicago where I intended 
to make some necessary purchases. 

Here I received another severe shock. While on my 
way to the hotel I was rendered unconscious by a blow 
upon the head and robbed of the roll of money I car¬ 
ried in the inner pocket of my waist-coat. Tuckily the 
thieves did not have time to search my clothing, or no 


150 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

doubt they would have relieved me of everything. As 
soon as possible I wrote to the family of my former part¬ 
ner, advising them of my misfortune, and of my utter in¬ 
ability to proceed to Alaska. I then called on one of 
the professors of my Alma Mater, telling him of my loss. 
He advised me to go to Michigan, and assume the prac¬ 
tice of Dr. T—, who had recently lost his wife, and wished 
to leave. In two days I was installed in the office of Dr. 
T—. I at once wrote my fiancee fully in regard to what 
had happened. I prospered so that in May of the fol¬ 
lowing year I was in fair shape financially, with a paying 
practice of one hundred dollars per month. 

May 15 found me at the home of my intended bride. 
We were to be quietly married and return to my place 
of business the following day. While we awaited the min¬ 
ister who was to perform, the ceremony, there came a 
knock at the door. I was asked for, and on stepping 
out, I was confronted by Mrs. R—, the mother of my 
former partner. After I had greeted her, she at once 
asked me to step into her carriage and return to her 
home. I explained that this was impossible as I was just 
about to be married. Then she flew into a rage, saying, 
among other things, that I should not desert her child 
in any such manner, and that I must marry her daughter 
at once and in case I refused she would have me in 
prison. I asked her upon what grounds, I could be 
sent to prison. She said on account of the money she 
had given me. I was dumbfounded, of course, and told 
her at once that if she suspected me of theft to have me 
arrested without delay. She left, vowing vengeance, aft¬ 
er making me a proposition which I am thankful I re- 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 151 

fused. There was but one witness to this interview, a 
young man who was an invalid, and was spending a few 
days at the home of his wife, who is an elder sister of 
my wife. He died the spring following. 

I was arrested March 7, 1900. After a preliminary 
hearing, the trial was set for May 26. I was charged 
with embezzlement. Mother, daughter, and son testified 
that 1 was given five hundred dollars, with instructions 
to deliver the amount to the son in Alaska. They could 
not or would not produce the letter from their son ask¬ 
ing them to do this; yet they swore as to the contents of 
the letter. When asked if they had agreed to pay me for 
the journey they said no. They proved that I had de¬ 
posited three hundred dollars in the bank at W-—, Mich¬ 
igan. They also testified that I was trying to get the 
consent of their daughter to become my wife. That was 
the sum total of their evidence. My only witness being 
dead, I had but my own statement and that of my wife, 
who testified to giving me the three hundred dollars. 

I was found guilty by a jury composed of farmers 
v exclusively, aged from forty-five to eighty-five years. The 
awful realization of being an outlaw pressed upon me 
with crushing force. When taken to the prison, I was 
in good health, weighing two hundred and twenty pounds, 
and owing to my participation in college games I was in 
possession of a splendidly developed frame; but such was 
the effect of mental disquietude, that most invidious 
enemy of health, that in three months after my imprison¬ 
ment T had become an old man; my hair was thin and 
gray about my temples, and I had lost forty pounds. 

I speak of this period because my sufferings were 


152 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


most intense during these first three months. I had 
sleepless nights, and restless days of torment. Strange 
to say my only regret was that I had not stolen the 
money. I reasoned that had I actually stolen, my pun¬ 
ishment would have been easier to bear. In short I was 
depending upon my own strength, my own finite intel¬ 
lect for support, and was being daily disappointed. I 
did not think of Him who is ready, yea, most eager, to 
help us in the hour of despair. 

Our chaplain was a young man who I believe had the 
interests of the convicts at heart, yet for some reason I 
could not bring myself up to accept of him the thing I 
was perishing to obtain, namely, a little human sympathy, 
and guidance to that unlimited Fountain of solace and 
love. The dreadfully long Sunday afternoons were to 
me a series of great sufferings. When locked in my nar¬ 
row cell I would pace up and down three short steps 
each way, my mind almost continually in a whirl of ex¬ 
citement and conflicting thoughts. Often suicide would 
present itself with almost overpowering force. To get 
rid of this feeling, I usually cried, “Coward,” until the 
demon departed. 

About this time two gentlemen passed before the 
barred door of my prison cell. One of them I shall never 
forget. He had spoken to us in the chapel service that 
morning. I had not intended paying any attention to 
what he said, for I was unusually despondent, cast down, 
and on the borders of despair. However there was some¬ 
thing in his manner, voice, and utterances that inter¬ 
rupted my troubled thoughts; and after the sermon I 
longed to see this man, but had not the least idea he 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


153 


would talk with the men personally. But coming to my 
door that afternoon, he extended his hand through the 
bars of my prison cell, and grasped mine in a warm, 
hearty grip. I could scarcely restrain my tears of—what 
shall 1 say, joy, shame, or grief? Here was this warm¬ 
hearted, yet unassuming Christian man taking my hand, 
without a question, without mincing, not knowing wheth¬ 
er I was a murderer, thief, or rapist. He was pressing 
my hand in order to have me realize that I was yet hu¬ 
man and capable of feeling, and a subject of God’s love 
and regard. After a few kind sympathetic words, he di¬ 
rected me to the Infinite Fountain of peace. He then 
passed on; yet to this day I can feel the pressure of his 
hand in mine. 

That incident led me to reason with my other self 
thus: If human sympathy is so helpful, and human love 
so sweet, what must indeed be the love, sympathy, and 
protection offered by our Heavenly Father? My plea 
every day since then has been, O, that I might become 
a Christian. Of my battles with self, I need not speak, 
yet I shall never own defeat. With God’s help, I will 
become a better man. 

Our chaplain recently discussed the Lord’s prayer. 
In the course of his remarks he touched upon our ask¬ 
ing forgiveness. We say, “Forgive us our debts as we 
forgive our debtors.” I argued long and earnestly with 
myself on this point. Had I forgiven those people who' 
caused my imprisonment? Assuredly not. Could I love 
them? No, never. Emphatically speaking, I sincerely 
hated them. And yet I was anxiously seeking to become 
a follower of Christ. The trouble was that I had simply 


154 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

been brought to a realization of the beautiful prospect 
of a Christian life, but was still too obstinate to bring 
myself to the point of freely forgiving my enemies, as 
I hoped to be forgiven. 

I wish I might be able to tell the Christian world 
what a grand opportunity presents itself for the saving 
of souls among the convicts. Many men here are bit¬ 
terly opposed to the efforts of the chaplain, when di¬ 
rected in the usual way, for prison discipline. They 
circumscribe his actions, as well as those of the prison¬ 
ers. Men there are in this place, who not only scoff at 
religion but who openly and boastfully curse God. While 
laying no claims to a knowledge of criminology I can how¬ 
ever express convictions, arrived at through careful and 
daily observation of fellow prisoners. Hypocrisy, of 
course, is more than frequently met with. Men will make 
most absurd claims with religious fervor, and in the next 
moment perpetrate some dishonorable trick. Yet we 
meet the very same conditions outside of prison walls. 

To be a Christian in prison is certainly a severe trial 
in more ways than one. The very unnaturalness of the 
claim becomes apparent, when neither officers nor fellow- 
prisoners are sparing of incredulous words and looks* to 
any who may express the Christ-like experience. And 
yet I say, here is a good opportunity. If prisoners were 
looked after by men who have an earnest desire to help 
them at the expiration of their minimum term of im¬ 
prisonment, and given employment not only for hands, 
but head and heart as well, and also given to under¬ 
stand, that with proper effort they could efface the past, 
become good citizens, and command the respect of their 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 155 

fellow men, I sincerely believe very many could be 
saved. In speaking thus I allude to the great majority 
of convicts. The uneducated are oftentimes scarcely re¬ 
sponsible. Please do not misunderstand the statement. 
I do net mean that they are scarcely responsible as a 
consequence of some mental lack at birth, but contend 
that there are many men to-day who though born with 
a full allowance of brains, yet are scarcely responsible 
because of their environment and lack of training. 

Concluding this sketch, I would say that I can now 
see clearly the error of my ways, and if I leave this 
prison alive it will be with a different view of life and 
its proper being than I had when I was brought here. 
I am fully determined, no matter what may happen, in 
the future, I will trust to God’s will and do my level 
best to become a respected citizen. While my ambition 
is greater than ever, I believe I can with God’s help 
turn it in the proper direction. With a heart full of hope 
I await the future. 

l v he above story was the result of a conversation I. 
had with this interesting convict, while serving as chap¬ 
lain in the Indiana State Prison. After hearing his story, 
which I believe was a true one, I said to him, “I have 
been thinking of writing a book, bearing the title of 
this volume.” I then asked him to write me out a brief 
statement of the events leading up to his incarceration, 
as he had given them to me for the book. On fourteen 
scraps of waste paper, which he was enabled to pick up 
in the prison, of all colors, shapes, and sizes, he went 
to work as opportunity offered, and just a little while 
before he was released on parole he handed me these 


156 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


fragments of paper, on which lie hacl written a brief 
sketch of his life as given in the above story of, How I 
Became A Convict. By a Convict. In presenting it to 
the reader, I have closely followed the copy given in the 
manuscript, except where some personal allusions were 
made to myself, modesty led me to modify his words. 

Mr. K.-, M.D., the subject of this sketch, was a man 

of fine personal appearance, and of more than ordinary 
intelligence. His sentence was an indeterminate one of 
from two to fourteen years. After meeting with the 
change referred to in the narrative, he became a model 
prisoner and a “trustie,” as they are called to distinguish 
them from others who cannot be trusted, and though 
locked in his cell during the night time, as all convicts 
are, his days were mostly spent in poultry yards over 
which he had charge, outside the prison walls; and after 
the release of Mr. Henderson, a prisoner, who served as 
precentor in the chapel services on Sunday mornings, he 
was chosen to fill the place and held it while he remained 
in prison. 

Owing to the peculiar circumstances of his case, and 
his honorable and upright conduct while a prisoner, and 
in harmony with the. views of the Board of Control and 
the prison officials, Governor Durbin so far commuted 
his sentence as to grant him a parole, after he had served 
a term of about eighteen months. 

Soon after his release, I received a letter in which he 
said, “I simply write you a few lines,- to inform you of 
my great joy and happiness, and that in the midst of it 
all I have not forgotten you.” In a few weeks I received 
another, written from his home, in which he again spoke 



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LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 159 

of the great joy of himself and wife, who had made such 
a noble fight for his liberty, she having gone before the 
Governor with her plea. And then he went on to say, 
“Now I must tell you of one thing in connection with 
my release. While the governor had my case under con¬ 
sideration, my wife’s eldest sister, herself a devout Chris¬ 
tian, proposed a daily prayer by the entire family, at a 
certain hour in my behalf. No matter where they might 
be, or what they might be doing, when the hour arrived, 
they were to sincerely ask God to grant their petition. 
They did this for two weeks, and I was as you know 
paroled. Is this not a modern miracle? Oh how I wish 
I might become worthy of such loyalty and such love. 
Such is my daily prayer.” After speaking of some per¬ 
sonal matters, he went on to say, “I feel happy, of 
course. Yet sometimes there comes to me the picture 
of that awful place, and those poor creatures who are 
spending their lives in it. I cannot, I cannot efface this 
view. I think it will always be with me. Oh how I wish 
something could be done for those poor people. And 
yet with many of them what could be done?” 


CHAPTER XI. 


A NIGHT IN A MURDERER’S CELL. 

His Last Night on Earth. 

During the fall of 1901, while serving as chaplain in 
the Indiana State Prison in . Michigan City, I was called 
upon to spend a night in a murderer’s cell. It was his 
last night on earth. I had been informed by the dep¬ 
uty warden, Mr. Barnard, that the condemned man 
wished to see me. Soon after the dinner hour I was 
admitted to his cell. This cell was one of a half dozen, 
known in the prison as “solitaries.” It was about eight 
by ten feet in size, and had been fitted up with an eye 
to the comfort of the prisoner; a carpet covered the stone 
floor, and a comfortable bed had been placed in one 
corner of the room; this with two easy chairs completed 
the furniture of the place. 

On entering the room I found the man sitting on the 
front side of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, 
his face buried in his hands, while his whole body and 
soul seemed bowed with grief. I shall never forget the 
sad look he gave me, as he lifted his eyes to mine, con¬ 
veying an expression cf imploring pity, bordering on des¬ 
pair. As I took his hand in mine he rose to his feet 
and burst into tears, accompanied with groans and deep 
drawn sighs. After this outburst of grief we sat down, 
he on the side of his bed, while I occupied a chair a lit¬ 
tle to one side. He still held my hand in his tight grasp 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


161 


and seemed reluctant to release it. I spent a half hour 
with him, during which time he spoke of the assurance 
he had received that his sins were all forgiven, and of his 
acceptance with God. He still seemed to entertain a hope 
that the governor would commute the death penalty to 
one of life imprisonment. After a brief prayer I com¬ 
mended him to God, and left the room promising him 
that I would see him later and spend a longer time with 
him. 

If the poor man had entertained a hope that his sem 
tence would be commuted to one of life imprisonment, 
that hope was cut off that afternoon by a telegram from 
the chief executive addressed to the warden, with these 
words: 

James Reid, Warden State Prison, 

Michigan City, Ind. 

I have this day denied the application for 
a change of sentence in the case of Joseph 
Keith. 

(Signed) W. T. Durbin, Governor. 

Thus the last ray of hope for the condemned man’s 
life being prolonged was taken away. This information 
Was conveyed to him later in the afternoon, at which 
time the death warrant was also read to him. He now 
realized as never before, that his time was short and 
his fate sealed. He seemed, however, resigned to the 
inevitable, and handed the warden a letter addressed to 
his wife; this letter contained a full confession of his 
crime. Previous to this he had made a partial confes¬ 
sion to the deputy warden, but had enjoined secrecy on 
his part until the governor had passed upon the commu¬ 
tation of his sentence. 


162 THE MEN REHTND THE BARS. OR 

As the day passed away and the shadows of night 
began to fall inside the prison walls, the electric lights 
were turned on, and abundantly shed their mellow rays 
of light throughout the enclosure; cheering the hearts 
of many, but utterly failing to disperse the gloom of 
him who, disconsolate and sad, sat in a murderer’s cell, 
and whose days, in mid-life, had dwindled to a few brief 
hours. The warden and all the prison officials seemed 
to realize the sadness and solemnity of that closing day, 
and nearly nine hundred prisoners went to their cells 
that night impressed perhaps as never before, that the 
way of the transgressor is hard. 

About half past seven, the deputy came to me say¬ 
ing that Mr. Keith wished me to come to his cell as soon 
as convenient. Accordingly at eight o’clock P. M., I 
again passed through the heavy iron gate, which was 
closed and locked behind me. The prisoner seemed very 
glad to see me, and after a short conversation, at his 
request we knelt in prayer at his bedside, seeking divine 
help for a burdened soul soon to enter Eternity. As I 
led in prayer he earnestly responded to the petitions of¬ 
fered, and then followed in a very importunate prayer 
for his own soul. He prayed especially that his sins 
might be forgiven, and that he might have an abiding 
assurance of his acceptance with God through the Son 
of His love. He then besought God in behalf of his 
broken-hearted wife, son, and only sister, asking that 
He would mercifully sustain and comfort them. He 
prayed for his enemies, .and those who had been in¬ 
strumental in fastening his crime upon him and so fix¬ 
ing his sentence. He also prayed for the governor and 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 163 

the officials of the prison, and those in authority over 
him; after which he expressed a wish that I would re¬ 
main with him to the end, also that I would write a let¬ 
ter to his wife and sister, giving them an account of his 
last hours on earth. I assured him that I would not 
forsake him, and that I would keep sacred his request 
and write as he directed. This last promise I fulfilled 
soon after I returned home. He entered into conversa¬ 
tion, giving me a brief sketch of his life. He said his 
father and mother were both Christians and workers in 
the church to which they belonged and that they had 
passed away some years before, that he had one sister 
living in War nick County near his own home, that he 
had two half brothers who went west, and he had not 
seen or heard from them for some years. He said he 
had been raised by Christian parents, and spoke of his 
own associations with the church, and told how aftei 
his marriage his own home had been the stopping place 
for ministers and Christian people. He frequently ex¬ 
pressed in pathetic terms the happiness of his own home, 
the great affection he had for his wife, son, and sister, 
and bitterly lamented the great Calamity he had brought 
upon them, and seemed burdened with grief for their 
sakes. He seemed greatly moved that he could not be 
permitted to see his family once more, and that he must 
die a\yay from relatives and friends. I said to him I 
thought it much better they were away than to be pres¬ 
ent and witness the tragic scene of his death, to which 
he assented by simply saying, “Perhaps it is better.” 

He then referred to the circumstances of his yielding 
to temptation, and being led away as if »y some evil spir- 


104 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


it, step by step, until he became involved in the diffi¬ 
culties which terminated in the murder of Nora Kiffer 
on the night of April 3, 1900. He said he became greatly 
concerned because she would write him letters making 
demands for money, and when he failed to comply with 
these demands, she would threaten him with vengeance. 
He said he became very much alarmed, and could not 
rest day or night, for fear she would cause trouble be¬ 
tween himself and family. He said he was so troubled 
that he lived in a state of constant fear, when all at once 
it occurred to him that the only thing he could do was 
to put her out of the way. He claimed the deed was 
committed through fear of exposure, and, he said, large¬ 
ly in self-defense. He went so far as to say that Nora 
was in a great measure responsible for her own death, 
and thus in a measure tried to justify himself in the ter¬ 
rible thing he had done. 

I now saw the necessity, as I had not felt it before, 
of dealing plainly with this poor man’s soul. I said to 
him, "My dear brother, you cannot possibly in any way 
justify yourself, in the sight of God or of men, by offer¬ 
ing these apologies in view of your self-admitted guilt. 
It is useless for you to try to cover your sin. If you do 
so you will not prosper. Your crime was a terrible one. 
God cannot look upon sin with allowance, but we have 
the positive assurance in His word that whoso confes- 
seth and forsaketh his sins shall obtain mercy. If you 
expect pardon there must be a humble confession upon 
your part.” 

I referred him to David who cried out of the lowest 
depths, “Against Thee, O Lord, have I sinned, and done 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 165 

this evil in Thy sight.” I said to him, u Yours must be 
a like confession.” He then suggested another season 
of prayer, during which his soul seemed to go out in an 
agony of grief, as he confessed his sin and implored 
mercy from God. After this season of prayer he be¬ 
came more resigned, and expressed the utmost confi¬ 
dence that his sins had all been forgiven, and said he 
felt at peace with God. He then sang a few verses of 
several familiar hymns, such as The Sweet Bye and Bye, 
O Think of the Home over There, and Saviour More 
than Life to me. He then spoke of the many friends 
who had passed over to the better land, and expressed 
a hope that he would soon meet them there. As the 
hour of midnight drew near I found he was under the 
impression that the execution would not take place un¬ 
til about five or six o’clock in the morning. I said 
to him that my understanding was that the event would 
take place between the hours of twelve and one o’clock, 
or soon after midnight. He received the intelligence 
calmly, saying, “Perhaps it’s just as well. I have been 
in suspense for a long time; the sooner it is over the 
better.” 

After this we again knelt in prayer, during which 
time he commended himself and family to God and His 
grace. It was now only a few minutes until twelve o’¬ 
clock. I reminded him once more that the end was near. 
For a moment he seemed to falter. I said to him, “Mr. 
Keith, you say you have the assurance that your sins 
are all forgiven, and that you have peace with God 
through Christ Tesus. Now if this be so, I want you to 
magnify the grace that has saved you by being brave.” 


166 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

He replied, “l will!” After which he never seemed to 
falter or look back; his face in a measure became joy¬ 
ous as he turned his thoughts to those on the other 
side. 

The midnight hour came. A few moments later the 
cell door opened, the deputy warden, the chief clerk, the 
prison physician and a special assistant, and two guards 
entered. The deputy informed the prisoner that the 
time was at hand; he asked that he be allowed to kneel 
once more in prayer, which request was granted. He 
arose from his knees and without a murmur submitted 
himself to the authorities. The clerk presented him 
with a suit of plain black cloth, and asked that he put 
them on, which he immediately proceeded to do, assisted 
by the officials, and soon he stood before us arrayed in 
a tasteful suit of black. During the night he had taken 
from his vest pocket a button photograph of his wife 
and asked me to fasten it on the lapel of his coat, which 
I had done. I informed the deputy of this, when it was 
taken from the lapel of the old coat, and placed upon 
the new. The deputy then proceeded to fasten the pris¬ 
oner’s arms to his sides, when he asked that his arms 
be left free long enough for him to bid good-bye to 
those present. He then proceeded to shake hands with 
all in the room bidding them an affectionate farewell. 
During the night he had asked that I accompany him to 
the scafforld. I had said to him that I preferred not to 
do this, but would see him there from the cell door after 
bidding him good-bye, to which he had assented. He 
gave me a warm grasp of the hand, with a hearty, “God 
bless you,” I commended him to God and His grace 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 167 

His arms were now fastened to his sides, and with a guard 
on either side, he passed through his cell door into the* 
corridor, turned to the right, walked a few steps and 
then ascended the stairway leading to the scaffold with 
elastic step, singing as he went, “I’m going Home to die 
no more.” One verse of this he sang in a clear tenor 
voice as he stood on the drop. The rope was then ad¬ 
justed, the black cap was drawn, when I stepped behind 
the door to hide from view the tragic scene. The trap 
was sprung, and Joseph Keith had met the extreme 
penalty of the law for having taken the life of his poor 
deluded victim, Nora Kiffer, eighteen months be¬ 
fore. 

“Was he saved?” was a question put to me that night 
by one of the prison officials, and has been asked me 
many times since. It is not for me to say; I do not know 
the secrets of another’s heart. There is One who knows, 
because He reads that heart. I trust you will not think 
me presumptuous, if I venture an opinion based on the 
promises. God says in His written word, “Come, let us 
reason together;” “Though your sins be as scarlet, they 
shall be as snow.” He is faithful and just to forgive us 
our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. The 
mountains may depart, the Rockies and Alleghanies, 
Heaven and Earth may pass away, but God’s faithful¬ 
ness to the penitent is sure. Sin defiles, pollutes, de¬ 
stroys the soul. There is a penalty to be met. Christ 
has become our substitute. His grace bridges the chasm 
between the sinner and Heaven. This is the Atonement. 
God can be just, and yet the Justifier of him that be- 
lieveth on Jesus. The Atonement covers all manner of 


168 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS.. 


sin. The worst may come in humble dependence on His 

infinite mercy, and with Watts say: 

My faith would lay her hand, 

On that dear head of Thine; 

While like a penitent I stand, 

And there confess my sin. 

The Royal Manasseh had done many wicked things 
in the sight of God; he had even slain many innocent 

ones in Jerusalem; but when he was in affliction he 

prayed unto God and humbled himself greatly before the 
God of his fathers, and prayed unto Him; and He was 
entreated of him, and He heard his supplication, and 
brought him again to Jerusalem into his kingdom, then 
Manasseh knew that the 1 Lord He was God. God is the 
same, “Yesterday, to-day, and forever.“His mercy is 
from everlasting to them that fear him.” God hears the 
cry of the humble and lowly as surely as of those in ex¬ 
alted position. If Joseph Keith, on that night in thaf 
solitary cell under sentence of death in a few hours, 
heartily repented of his sins, (which I believe he did), 
and fully trusted in the great Atonement made for sin, 
his faith was accounted to him, for that righteousness 
which is by faith on the Son of God, and his sins were 
blotted out, as surely as were those of the penitent thief 
on the cross. 


CHAPTER XII. 


A CONVICT’S BURIAT. 

Joel Thorp, a man of medium build and rather feeble 
form, had been convicted of larceny and sentenced for 
an indefinite term of years to the penitentiary at Michigan 
City; after awhile he was taken with consumption, and 
was removed to the prison hospital where he lingered for 
some months, gradually growing worse until it became 
evident he could not recover. About two months before 
his death he was paroled by the prison board, after which 
he fondly entertained hopes that he would be permitted 
to go out and die among his relatives and friends. But 
it seemed they had cast him off, at least none of them 
appeared willing to receive him. So he lingered on, until 
death came to end his sufferings, and terminate his prison 
life. Af-ter which he was buried, as represented in the 
following lines. 

On reaching the prison, one Saturday, night, 

In the month of September, as day faded from sight, 

I sat in the arched way near the main entrance door, 

My thoughts on the men, eight hundred and more, 

Shut out from the world by the high prison walls, 

Or confined behind bars in their lone prison cells. 

These cells, each one filled only with gloom 
In that silent hour, seemed a dark living tomb, 

Where men through vice, and for crime had entered in, 

And barred fast the gates, and drove firm the bolts with sin. 

And yet, I firmly hoped, that some who were suffering there, 

In the sight of Heaven, had been proven clear. 


170 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


When the warden approaching, with downcast head, 

“A Convict died today, in the prison,” he said; 

“His body is now at the undertaker’s room 
Being fitted for its last resting place in the tomb. 

In the morning about seven o’clock, if you will, 

I wish you to hold a short service, at the grave on the hill/ 

As the hour drew near for the sad funeral rite, 

An old hearse, tightly closed, with no one in sight, 

Save the driver, went rattling along over the way, 

Bearing the dead body of a prisoner that day, 

Who had been paroled by the board of control 

But God, in His mercy, had discharged his poor soul. 

No kindred, or friends followed the earthly remains 
No sad mourners walked in that funeral train, 

Just a worn old hearse, with the driver mounted before 
Bearing a dead convict’s body—and nothing more 
To a grave dishonored, unmarked and unknown, 

Save by Him who keeps watch, and marks His own. 

As the old hearse drew near to that burial place, 

On a sand hill, where many unfortunates rest 
The Deputy Warden, a few guards, and myself, 

Awa'ited its coming along with some convicts, 

Who in that desolate place, a grave had prepared, 

For the body of him for whom nobody cared. 

No monuments rose from that burial ground, 

No tablets of marble or stone, marked the mounds, 

Bearing record of deeds, either honest or great. 

No story of service to Church, or the State, 

But pieces of boards, going into decay, 

Showed where the bodies of prisoners were mouldering away. 

A grave had been dug in that sad grewsome spot, 

By men under guard, from the prison brought. 




LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE 


1 


The loose sand had fallen in at the sides. 

Until the grave must have been five or six feet wide, 
Hollowed out underneath, and seven feet long, 

With ragged edges jutting over all around. 

A rough wooden coffin, old fashioned in style, 

And stained in the old fashioned way, 

Was carried by convicts, away from the hearse, 

And by them was lowered down deep in the earth 
And placed in the center of that ragged pit 
Without any protection, no box shielding it. 

A brief earnest prayer was lifted to Him, 

Who died on the Cross for humanity’s sin, 

After which, a short 'portion of Scripture was read; 
And a few remarks made concerning the dead, 

And a victory through Him whose Almighty tread, 

Was heard long ago in the chambers of death. 

The benediction pronounced, prisoners shovel the sand, 
Over the body of him whom nobody claimed. 

In the hospital ward, he had wasted away; 

For months slowly dying, as day followed day; 

No father, or mother, no sister or friend 

Came there to comfort his soul, or to witness the end. 

In the hospital ward, his companions in crime 
Had watched o’er his body going into decline; 

The prison physician, no doubt, let me say, 

Prescribed for his ills, faithfully, every day. 

While prisoners, carefully guarded by guards, 
Administered the potions in that hospital ward. 

The man’s life, it is true, was tainted with sin, 

There was evil without, and corruption within; 

But say—was it proper, and right to cast him aside, 

To be cared for by strangers, that night when he died 0 


172 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS. 

Stern law had relented, and granted parole. 

But kindred refused the last wish of his soul. 

But while I thus muse, my heart grows more sad, 

When I think that a soul, with humanity clad. 
Should meet, like the brute, such a desolate end, 

And go out from this world without having a friend. 
For humanity’s sake, let us pause at the bier, 

And let fall on the grave of the prisoner, a tear. 


A WARD IN PRISON HOSPITAL 







a:. 

iS : "v 












































✓ 






CHAPTER XIII. 


A MOTHER’S LOVE AND PRAYER. 

The following touching incident was related by War 
den Shidler and published in a local paper at the time. 

An old woman, who had been informed 
by telegraph that her son, a young man serv¬ 
ing a sentence of from one to three years 
for petit larceny, was dying, arrived at the 
Michigan City prison on an excursion train 
at one o’clock Sunday afternoon. A hos¬ 
pital ward, where the young man lay, was 
cleared of patients, in order that the mother 
might spend a few minutes alone with her 
son in the last hours of his life. The prison 
physician warned her against staying too 
long, as he feared the son would not stand 
the strain. After many a reluctant start the 
woman finally got up to go, asking the son 
if there was anything he wanted. He re¬ 
plied, “Some oranges.” 

The old woman hastened to the city, but 
before she had passed the gates the son sank 
back and breathed his last. The prison offi¬ 
cials counseled as to how to break the news 
to her, and as they talked, the old woman 
came hurrying into the prison. The warden 
beckoned her into the office, where the pris¬ 
on physician and the guard stood. She had 
the oranges in her hands, and appeared anx¬ 
ious to get to her boy. In answer to her 
expectant look, the warden said to her, 

“Madame, your son grew worse after 
you left him. In fact he grew much worse, 


176 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS. 

and we fear you cannot take him home with 
you as you asked. In truth, I fear he may 
die at any time." 

“Warden," broke in the physician, in a 
low tone, “he is dead/’ 

‘‘Oh, the look,” said the warden as he re¬ 
lated the incident. “We have to try to get 
used to such things, but it was too much 
for any of us. The doctor drummed on his 
chair, and the guards, big, strong fellows, 
made furtive movements to their cheeks. I 
confess I did not know what to say, but 
there was nothing to be said.” 

The old woman looked down at the or¬ 
anges, which seemed dead themselves, and 
then without saying a word, dropped on her 
knees at a chair, and such a prayer as she 
offered to the Almighty, asking Him to for¬ 
give her son, who died in prison. She prayed 
fervently and eloquently. A Beecher could 
not have surpassed it. It was a new expe- 
. rience for us, and we stood with bowed 
heads. 

Then she arose, but did not give way to 
her grief. She seemed rejoiced when we 
told her that the body of her son would be 
sent home for burial. She had thought he 
might be buried in the sand that lies around 
the prison walls. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A DAY OF STRANGE CONTRASTS. 

By J. M. Buckeey, D.D. 

The following chapter is published in this book by 
permission of the author, Rev. James M. Buckley, D. D., 
editor of The Christian Advocate, and was given in that 
paper May 23, 1901, under the above caption, and is repro¬ 
duced as given by the author. 

The change of the name of Sing' Sing to Ossining, 
to protect the town from the evil reputation given to it 
by Sing Sing Prison (which has greatly interfered with 
the prosperity of its manufacturers, competitors falsely 
calling their products prison-made goods), renders ap¬ 
propriate an account of a day of strange contrasts which 
on a Sunday in last autumn we experienced there. Sing 
Sing is supposed to be a corruption of Ossining, which 
in the Indian dialect signified “Stone upon Stone.” 

Early in the Sabbath, accompanied by Dr. William F. 
Anderson, we proceeded to Sing Sing Prison. This 
gloomy building was erected in the first quarter of the 
last century, and is now a disgrace to the Empire State. 
The main buildings were constructed on bad plans. They 
are the antiquated monuments of outworn ideas. The 
cell hall has two hundred cells in each tier, and the block 
is six tiers high. In that one wing are twelve hundred 
cells too small for the purpose, condemned for years, 
poorly ventilated, each receiving little pure air, which is 
always foully contaminated by the hall. The roof is of 


178 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


wood covered with tin, the shops are cheaply built, old, 
and inconvenient, the north wall insecure. The new 
structures are in essential points impracticable, though 
tolerable. The site of the prison is so near the level of 
the river that it is impossible to get satisfactory sewage. 

In one of the recently erected main buildings are two 
chapels, a hospital, and a mess hall. In one of the chap¬ 
els the Catholics hold service, and the other is devoted 
to the service conducted under the superintendence of the 
chaplain. 

Chaplain Sanderson met us in the hall and conducted 
me to the platform. 

The chaplain was delicately reticent in answering my 
inquiries concerning individual prisoners. He seemed to 
wish to say nothing that, if known, would influence the 
men unfavorably, and for this I commended him. 

I looked upon the eight hundred men before me with 
emotion. Among them I saw heads as large and sym¬ 
metrical as might be found in any great deliberative body 
in church or State; eyes that flashed with the light of in¬ 
telligence ; faces that were seamed with the marks of suf¬ 
fering, and some that, judged by the often erroneous 
conventional standards of physiognomy, indicated crim¬ 
inal instincts and an abandoned life. But the large ma¬ 
jority could in no way be distinguished from men of the 
same age in ordinary civil life. Comparatively few re¬ 
minded me of the typical criminal class whose faces are 
so conspicuously represented in works on criminology. 
A considerable proportion indicated the effects of pre¬ 
vious intemperance, and some bore the marks of low na¬ 
tural intelligence. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 179 

Prisoners are at a disadvantage when clad in prison 
garb and their hair and beard trimmed in a uniform way. 
When Guiteau was arrested for the murder of Garfield 
he was represented as of horrible mien, with a criminal 
face, and with a strident and unmusical voice. But when 
arrested he had been in hiding, had not been shaved or 
washed. 

In an hour and a half’s interview which I had with 
him in the prison I found his manners those of a gentle¬ 
man, his countenance and head comparing favorably with 
those of cultivated men, his intelligence marked, his con¬ 
versation entertaining, and his voice musical. 

Of the 800 before me the warden’s last report showed 
that there were 25 sentenced for life. Besides these, 
among my hearers were 2 bankers, 30 bookkeepers, 47 
clerks, 4 physicians, 5 lawyers, 1 United States Consul, 
and 21 salesmen. Besides these there were policemen, 
chemists, dentists, 9 merchants, 2 journalists, an archi¬ 
tect, and one or two clergymen. The balance of the 1,- 
250 in the building, 450 of whom were in attendance at 
the Catholic chapel, included all trades and occupations 
known among men. Ten hundred and fifty-three of the 
1,250 in the prison were under 40 years of age. Among 
these were 250 total abstainers from the use of ardent 
spirits, and 74 abstainers from tobacco. Ten hundred 
and forty-two acknowledged the use of liquor as a bever¬ 
age, and 1,176, of tobacco. Of the Protestants the chap¬ 
lain informed me 82 were present at the last communion, 
and 6 of them had been baptized by the chaplain previous 
to the celebration of that sacrament. 

To preach to prisoners is an easy task if one does it 


180 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


only occassionally. Never have I had better attention, 
never has a congregation seemed more completely to 
fuse into one, never were the responses (by that subtle 
method of communicating with the speaker, of which the 
hearer is unconscious) more stimulating. 

Mr. Wesley is the best teacher. One day, before the 
pulpits of London were closed to him, he preached to a 
fashionable but godless congregation from the text, “Ye 
serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the 
damnation of hell After the sermon he was rebuked 
by one who said to him, “Why did you take a text that 
would have suited Newgate, to preach from to such a 
refined and distinguished people?” Said Wesley, “Had 
I preached in Newgate I should have taken as my text, 
‘Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, 
and I will give you rest.’ ” 

Mentally to put one’s self in the prisoner’s place, not 
the place of the hardened, impenitent prisoner who is a 
monster in the sight of God and would be in the sight 
of men if his condition were understood, but of the con¬ 
scious sinner against his Maker, should prepare anyone 
to preach to prisoners. One can do that by drawing 
upon his memory. Also, who has not had sorrow enough 
to sympathize in a certain sense with all sorrowing? For 
though some have said, “There is no God,” “none hath 
said there is no sorrow.” 

In that audience also were friends of prisoners, who 
were residing temporarily in the town to embrace any 
opportunity that might be allowed them by the author¬ 
ities to see their friends. Their presence and demeanor 
illustrated another phase of pathos. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 181 

To the right of that vast hall was a chamber into 
which my words could not penetrate, though the windows 
were open. In it were six men under sentence of death, 
one at least born and reared in an atmosphere of refine¬ 
ment, connected with a family whose oldest representa¬ 
tive still occupies an honored position. (His appeal 
from the verdict which doomed him to death is yet to be 
argued before the highest court of the state.) Among 
the eight hundred were many Sunday school scholars, 
and one man at least whose name has been an honored 
one in Methodism. Conspicuous representatives of al¬ 
most every denomination, some of them very conspicu¬ 
ous, are there. 

The singing of so many male voices properly led pro¬ 
duced such a volume of musical sound that had one been 
taken blindfolded into the place he might have thought 
himself present at the General Assembly of the Presby¬ 
terian Church on the opening day, or in the General Con¬ 
ference of the Methodist Church. 

The sentiments of the hymns sung, if believed and 
reduced to practice, would reform every man among 
them that needs reformation, and give every man strength 
to resist temptation. 

Before half past nine the service was over, and ac¬ 
companied by the pastor, Dr. Anderson, I ascended the 
hill to the Methodist church, which, like Zion of old, is 
beautiful for situation, and is an edifice that would do 
discredit to no situation, however imposing. An im¬ 
mense congregation had assembled when we entered the 
pulpit, all seemed peculiarly happy, and in many eyes was 
the expression which indicates delighted expectancy. They 


182 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

knew who the preacher was to be, but that was a small 
figure in the production of the peaceful and even jubilant 
aspect of every countenance. 

A scene was to occur which made that day memor¬ 
able in earth and heaven. Nearly seventy “young men 
and maidens, old men and children” were to be received 
into the church, the first fruits (after six months of train¬ 
ing) of the time of refreshing “from the presence of the 
Lord” which the church and people had enjoyed in the 
preceding winter and spring. 

In the company, which formed three rows around the 
altar, were husbands whose wives had long prayed for 
their conversion, and parents upon whom their children 
gazed with delight, wondering that they did not give 
their hearts to God long ago, before their sons and 
daughters had grown almost to manhood and woman¬ 
hood. And there were husbands and wives lately mar¬ 
ried who were sanctifying the domestic relation by unit¬ 
ing their hearts more fully in love to Him who hath set 
“the solitary in families.” 

We have seen fine paintings representing the signers 
of the Declaration of Independence. These were sign¬ 
ing a declaration of dependence upon, loyalty to, and al¬ 
liance with, God; a dependence which insures man his 
highest dignity, his purest happiness, and his only real 
security. 

How great a contrast was this with the condition of 
most, if not all, of the prisoners whom I had just before 
addressed! Yet among them were many whose opening 
lives were as promising as any of these, and who had stood 
before the altar in similar circumstances. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 1S3 

In the evening, just as the sun was sinking to its rest, 
I ascended the lofty heights above the town and looked 
away upon the beautiful scenery of the Hudson. The 
river at this point is wider than at any other; the wide 
Tappan Zee and Haverstraw r Bay are separated by the 
peninsula known in ancient time as Teller’s Point, and 
now as Croton or Underhill’s Point. There the Vulture 
waited for Arnold and Andre, there the Croton Aque¬ 
duct crosses the Kill by an imposing-stone arch seventy 
feet above the stream. On the other shore are slopes 
and rocky heights which the Rhine itself cannot surpass, 
and the Hudson lay darkling in its valley, whose rocky 
western slope prematurely hastened the sunset. 

On that noble river glides many a pleasure boat laden 
with Sunday schools and other excursionists, ascending 
to the islands further up the river in the hope of escaping 
the heat and dust of the summer. But beneath its sur¬ 
face the escaping prisoner hotly pursued has plunged to 
his death; and others have worked their way out of the 
prison for no other apparent reason than that they were 

“Mad from life’s history, 

Glad to death’s mystery, 

Swift to be hurled, 

Anywhere, anywhere, 

Out of the world. ,, 

As I sat there looking and musing a strangely fas¬ 
cinating scene burst upon my eye far up the river. The 
sun, now almost below the horizon, reached a point where 
between the heights it could shoot its rays for a second 
full upon the river, which there makes a slight turn. It 
blazed for a moment in golden light, then slowly sank. 


184 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS. 


Above and below the river, in contrast, seemed dark 
as the fabled Styx. 

I thought of the prisoners and prayed that some rays 
of heaven’s own light might reach the recesses of their 
hearts, rays which would lead them to offer David’s pray¬ 
er: “There be many that say, Who will show us any 
good? Lord, lift Thou up the light of Thy countenance 
upon us.” 


GROUP OK CHRISTIAN ENDEAVOR PRISONERS. 














CHAPTER XV. 


MRS. ELLEN JOHNSON’S LAST REPORT, BEFORE THE NA¬ 
TIONAL PRISON CONGRESS. 

By Permission. 

The following chapter contains the contents of a paper 
prepared by Mrs. Ellen Johnson manager of the Women’s 
Reformatory Prison at Sherborn, Mass., just before 
her death; and was read by Mrs. Barrows before the chap¬ 
lains meeting on Monday afternoon September 24, 1899, 
at the National Prison Congress held in Hertford, Con¬ 
necticut, and was published in their report for that year. 
After a careful reading of the report I was so deeply im¬ 
pressed with its Christ like spirit, and the true methods 
presented for the reformation of the fallen, that I felt 
it ought to have a wider circulation than is to be obtained 
from the reading of prison reports by the few who are 
engaged in prison work. So I wrote to Mr. Butler, secre¬ 
tary of the Board of state Charities; asking what he 
thought of the propriety of giving it a place in my book. 
He wrote me “that he thought there would be no impro¬ 
priety in my publishing the article as prepared by Mrs. 
Johnson, and read by Mrs. Barrow.” Dr. Fred H. Wines, 
of National repute as a Prison worker, has said of Mrs. 
Johnson, “that she was a far greater woman than Mrs. 
Elizabeth Frye; and that there has probably never been 
a woman, and possibly any man, connected with prison 
work who has been her equal,” and that Mrs. Johnson, 


188 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


might have said of her prison at Sherborn, “Thy walls 
shall be called Salvation.” “ ‘For her walls were Salvation, 
and her gates Praise.” “She had such trust in the essential 
nobility of man as a child of God, that she looked upon no 
case of degradation as hopeless. All she asked was time 
and opportunity, to find a way to the lost woman’s heart.” 
So may it be with all prison workers. 

“It is now about thirty years since the commonwealth 
of Massachusetts tried to establish a separate penal insti¬ 
tution for female convicts. The initial steps in the move¬ 
ment were taken, as was fitting, by a few philanthropic and 
determined women, inspired by the prophetic works and 
words of that honored pioneer in prison reform—Elizabeth 
Frye. For seven years these women, with a slowly increas¬ 
ing band of helpers, persevered in their purpose, until they 
had won over public opinion, and its representatives in the 
legislature. In 1874, an appropriation of $300,000 opened 
the way for a realization of their hopes. The construction 
commission lost no time in carrying out instructions, and 
in three years the buildings were completed, and the ex¬ 
periment of a woman’s prison, officered and managed by 
women, was under way. 

“For more than twenty years the work has gone on 
not, of course, without mistakes and discouragements, but 
with constantly increasing efficiency and hopefulness. 
From the outset it was determined that the discipline of 
the prison should be reformatory, as well as penal in char¬ 
acter: a determination based upon the belief that no soul 
is entirely depraved, and that no criminal should be judged 
as lost to all sense of honor until faithful effort had been 
made to awaken that sense. It is a common saying that 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 189 

the worst criminals are not prisoners. It is certainly safe 
to say that human nature is the same inside prison walls 
as outside. The same principles, therefore, should be 
applied in its treatment; the same spirit shown towards 
the weak and lallen. Xo man is inspired or softened 
by having his sins or misfortunes constantly held up before 
him; no courage of soul or purity of purpose comes from 
dwelling upon a wretched past or an unhappy present. 

‘‘The impulse must be forward and upward and outward. 
Some of us may learn our lessons easily, but the vast 
majority must not only be taught by stern experience, but 
must receive from some source outside of self the 
inspiration and guidance which is necessary to establish us 
in the right way. Beyond all question this is true of such 
criminals as are received at the Massachusetts Reforma- 
tory prison for women. Of other prisons and other 
methods I have neither the right nor the wish to speak; 
but of the spirit and system of the work which has been 
my charge for fifteen years, I can speak understanding^. 
Our women are of all ages and nationalities, of all grades 
of intelligence or ignorance. The majority are young. 
Very few are strictly illiterate—that is unable to read or 
write—but a large proportion are practically uneducated. 
We take the woman from the officer in whose charge she 
comes to us, with no inquiry as to her past. The Mittimus 
sent with her states simply the crime for which she was sen¬ 
tenced, and we do not seek to know more than this. Any 
woman, criminal, though she be, has a right to an unpreju¬ 
diced trial and a fair start in her new life. A few necessary 
data as to age, nativity and parentage, are recorded; a thor¬ 
ough bath follows, and clean, whole clothing replaces the 


190 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


soiled* and ragged garments in which most of the women 
reach us. An examination is made to the physical condition, 
the results of which go on record for possible future refer¬ 
ence, and the woman begins her experience as a prisoner by 
entering the department called ‘'probation.” The probation 
plan we regard as one of the most effective points in our 
system which is essentially a system of grades founded up¬ 
on the record of the daily conduct of the prisoners. Here 
the woman spends four weeks by herself in a well lighted 
room I 2 byi 4 feet,where she does not come in contact with 
other prisoners, and sees no one except the officials in 
charge of her. At the end of that time she is quite certain 
to be sober, quiet, and disposed to conduct herself properly 
in the next grade. She has had no privileges except those 
necessary to the health of body and mind. From the time 
she enters the prison until the day she leaves it every 
woman is supplied with a readable book from the well 
chosen library. The prison dress has a large outside 
pocket in which the book is carried. The time of proba¬ 
tion can therefore be partly enjoyed in reading. 

“After experiencing the isolation of probation, no wom¬ 
an will readily forego the companionship of her mates to 
return to it. Those in charge of her have, meantime been 
shown something of her character and tendencies, and are 
better prepared to meet such manifestations as may appear 
later. Furthermore, newcomers often develop delirium tre¬ 
mens, not infrequently insanity, and the conditions of the 
probation ward make it comparatively easy to deal with 
such cases. Another point in favor of the probation plan 
is that the news brought by a criminal from the outside 
world becomes stale and unimportant to the other prison- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


191 


ers before she has a chance to relate it. News four weeks 
old has little interest for them/’ 

“Above probation there are four grades, numbered from 
one upward, each bringing with it certain privileges, addi¬ 
tional to those of the grade below; privileges so slight as 
almost to provoke a smile from those who do not realize 
how small is the world to which these women are re¬ 
stricted, and how few and pathetic are their interests. A 
different dress, more varied food eaten from better dishes, 
another way of holding the hands in line of march, and 
the right to carry a library book in sight under the arm, 
instead of out of sight in the pocket, only one who has 
had to deal with prisoners can understand the importance 
to them of these things, and the influence exercised thereby 
upon their conduct. Every prisoner knows when she enters 
a grade, the number of days she is to remain in it, the 
date upon which, if she is orderly and obedient, she will 
pass to the next higher, and her daily record is kept by 
marks upon a system which she fully understands. 

“Every year demonstrates more clearly the value of a 
graded system in the management of prisoners. Ambition 
without which no reform is possible, self control, which 
is character, have been gained by many an unstable, sin¬ 
ful, or despairing soul, simply by the purposeful effort to 
attain the best rank in her little world. We who watch 
these women as they pass before us, at work, or at meals, 
or in their assembling in the chapel, have learned to 
recognize the first hopeful signs, the brightening eye, the 
higher step, the tenser muscles, the steady gain, not only 
in grade but in spirit. These tell the story. I do not need 
to say that there are downfalls, in some cases many. The 


192 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


habits of a lifetime are not overcome in months. The 
deadened conscience, the weakened will, the disordered 
brain, the confused ideas of morality and truthfulness all 
conspire to drag down and keep down these unhappy 
victims of vice and passion. A woman’s standing is seri¬ 
ously, sometimes permanently, affected by these lapses, but 
every effort is made to hold her to duty, and restore 
her if she falls. Patience, gentleness with firmness, time 
to consider and repent, forgiveness and restoration where 
it seems wise, loss of grade or punishment in extreme 
cases, nothing is left untried in the purpose to save the 
woman from herself, and to reform her if possible. That 
it is ever impossible, I dare not to say. 

“Of all the means employed in dealing with offenders, 
not the least effective is allowing time for reflection. Sober 
second thoughts will almost surely come to the most en¬ 
raged and excited woman if she is given space to cool her 
brain and quiet her nerves. Even if circumstances require 
the infliction of punishment, it will be far more effective if 
the offender can be made to see the fault and to recognize 
the justice of the penalty. Criminals are not seldom dull 
and slow of intellect. They consider themselves the vic- 
toms of power which governs by force alone, and which has 
imprisoned them simply by virtue of its greater strength. 
They must be made to see the falsity of this belief. They 
must learn that they are not friendless, and that law 
though merciless, is just. Obedience to obtain the best 
results, should be intelligent, and to arouse the intelligence 
of a prisoner is a process requiring time and patience. But 
it pays to take time. Patience is a good investment. 

“From all that T have said I would not have it inferred 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 193 

that punishment should not sometimes be sharp and sud¬ 
den. No lesson is more important than that which teaches 
respect to law, and dread of its wrath. At the same time, 
it is a fundamental point in our theory, that every criminal 
can be won by gentleness and patience. I believe if time 
were allowed to deal in this way with each indivdual, that 
punishment would in time—a long time perhaps, but cer¬ 
tainly at last,—be abolished as useless. I might give you 
countless incidents, from my own experience, but perhaps 
one extreme case will illustrate sufficiently. 

“A woman was received at the Prison whose intelli¬ 
gence and morals seemed but one degree above those of 
the brutes. She resisted every offer of friendliness and defied 
authority so boldly that we were forced to put her in punish¬ 
ment, but solitude and quiet had no effect except to enrage 
her still farther, to the doing of deeds unfit to be told 
here. She seemed bent upon her own undoing; but we 
used no severity beyond what was absolutely essential 
to her control, and she was told quietly, though firmly 
and repeatedly, that disobedience so persistent would sure¬ 
ly involve greater humiliation and atonement. Somehow 
I could not give that woman up. I set my patience and 
resolution against hers, and every day for five weeks I 
went to see her, hoping and believing that the good in her 
would triumph. And it did triumph. One night as I 
entered her cell, she burst into tears of penitence and 
shame. “O Mrs. Johnson!” she cried “I wanted long ago 
to tell you that I was sorry, and that I would do any¬ 
thing you asked me to; but I was ashamed to say it. 
May I begin tomorrow morning ?” The victory was com¬ 
plete. The woman did without reluctance or reserve all 


194 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

and more than was asked of her, and I need not tell you 
of the courage, and renewed faith brought to our own 
hearts by this happy Outcome of what had seemed a hope¬ 
less contest. 

“The greatest good can be accomplished, as I have said, 
only by an intelligent obedience on the part of the pris¬ 
oner. If she understands the true nature of her offense 
against law, feels the justice of her penalty, and comes to 
believe in the friendliness of those who have her in charge, 
she is prepared for the next step of repentance, aspiration 
for better things, and a definite purpose to attain them. 
She begins to see the value of discipline, however grievous 
it may seem for the present, and to submit herself to it 
in a spirit which in itself goes far to accomplish the de¬ 
sired work. The end of all discipline is to train mankind 
in ways of integrity, unselfishness and sobriety. What 
other end should we seek for these women, not only for 
their own sakes but for the sake of society, in whose inter¬ 
ests they were imprisoned? They must learn to do right 
because it is right; to make a right decision when they 
are free to make a wrong one; to stand steadfast when 
they are released from restraint and confronted with temp¬ 
tation. A prisoner who obeys because she is afraid to 
disobey, can be trusted as far as the arm of authority 
can reach, and no farther. One who obeys because she 
thinks obedience pays better than disobedience may go 
down under the first strenuous assault of the adversary. 
The right purpose and principle must reign in the heart, 
if life is to be either happy or useful. The only effective 
control of the prisoner is self control and to cultivate 
this in our women every incentive is brought to bear and 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 195 
♦ 

every discouragement to evil doing is kept before 
them. 

“Many of the privileges given, especially those in the 
form of recreation, are unannounced and irregular in their 
reoccurrence, and often of a kind new in the experience 
of the women. For instance, as an unexpected and excep¬ 
tional favor, they were once summoned from their beds 
at midnight, bidden to wrap their blankets around them, 
and pass in procession to the office. They obeyed, not 
knowing why, and were rewarded by the sight of a night 
blooming cereus in full glory of fragrant blossom; and the 
delighted faces, the orderly behavior and the earnest thanks 
expressed then and later, by word and act, showed their 
appreciation of the favor. 

“At another time, on the last day of the year, I went into 
the rooms where the women were gathered for their 
evening recreation, and told them that as it was my custom, 
I should spend the closing half hour of the year in the 
chapel; and that I should be glad to see there that night 
any woman who felt that by coming she could find com¬ 
fort for her soul and an inspiration towards a better life. 
They were all free to come or stay away, but whatever 
they did they must conduct themselves so that there would 
be nothing to regret, either for them, or for me. The 
plan was no impulse. I had considered it well, and was 
convinced of its wisdom, notwithstanding the fact of the 
three hundred women in the prison, a large proportion 
were in the lower grades, and comparatively unused to 
discipline. I had spent that day planning the simple decora¬ 
tions of the chapel. The Christmas green still hung on the 
walls. About the desk I placed palms, and flowers. In 


1% 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


front and between these was a bank of white lillies with 
nodding heads of golden hearts, and into the center of 
these I dropped a single electric light. It shone up into the 
faces of the flowers, and beamed out with a soft radiance 
through the snowy petals; and the place was glorified. 
At half past eleven that night I was in my place in the 
chapel, with my deputy at my side, and the organist at the 
instrument. I heard the distant, measured step of the 
women in the corridors, coming nearer and nearer, and 
I hen they filed in, a single matron in charge of each 
division. I looked over the expectant faces, and every 
woman in the prison was there except those in proba¬ 
tion and a few in the hospital. We had a simple service, 
responsive reading from the Psalms, prayer and singing, 
ending with a hymn suited to the closing year. At three 
minutes before twelve I said, “Now we will kneel in silent 
prayer.” 

“They dropped on their knees as one woman, and amid 
a silence unbroken save by the prison bell as it tolled 
the midnight hour, we passed from the old year over 
into the new. When we rose, I talked to them for a little 
while about some matters necessary and helpful in their 
daily life, then we sang together a new year's hymn, and 
then they went as they had come, in order and quiet, their 
footsteps growing fainter and fainter down the stairs and 
along the corridors, and I knew the experiment had suc¬ 
ceeded. Time and time again, as the days went by, was 
I assured by one and another of the helpfulness of that 
midnight service. So satisfactory were the results that 
what was at first only an experiment has become a cus¬ 
tom, and is carried out on every New Year's eve. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 197 

“But we try to reach and influence the women not only 
by their recreation, and by the privileges which belong to 
the successive grades, but by other means, flowers, music, 
reading, pet animals, the little children in the nursery, 
their helpless comrades in the hospital, in some way, at 
some time, we can almost certainly reach a tender spot 
in the heart of every woman, a little handful of soil where 
the good seed may find lodgment. There are very few 
to whom flowers do not appeal; and we employ them 
freely in chapel decorations, often using one variety alone, 
as on “cowslip Sunday,” and “laurel Sunday.” After 
the service on a certain “cowslip Sunday” an English wom¬ 
an, whose hands like those of the other prisoners, were 
full of the golden blossoms, came and told me in earnest 
words how they had touched her heart, and stirred mem¬ 
ories of an innocent childhood spent amid the green fields 
of England where the primroses grew. 

“In all that I have said in regard to the times and efforts 
spent in reaching the reason and conscience of the pris¬ 
oner, I do not wish to be misunderstood. We suffer no 
compromise with authority! We allow no parleying nor 
evasion of orders. We desire intelligent and willing obe¬ 
dience, but it must also be instant and complete. That 
this is thoroughly understood by the women, let me give 
a proof. 

“The women are sometimes allowed five minutes for 
general conversation at the close of public exercise. Every 
tongue will be active when such an opportunity is given 
but at the first tap of the bell on the superintendent’s 
desk, the sound stops on the instant. There is no gradual 
lessening of the volume of conversation, no scattering 


198 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


words falling on the silence here and there; the hush is 
absolute and instantaneous. This argues a degree of train¬ 
ing in prompt and perfect obedience. 

“I have said nothing in regard to the occupation of our 
prisoners, but it may be stated in a general way, that they 
are such as will best fit the woman for a life of freedom 
and self support. All branches of housekeeping, cooking, 
dairying, laundry work, plain sewing, the arrangement and 
management of a house, the care of the sick and small 
children, all are a part of the daily routine, besides the 
rearing of silk worms and the winding of silk, an especially 
attractive duty to most prisoners, and bestowed as a high 
privilege upon those who have shown themselves trusty 
and steadfast. 

“Those women who are illiterate, that is, unable to read 
or write, are arranged in two classes, one for reading and 
one for writing, and each class spends an hour a day, for 
five days in the week, in the school room; while to those 
who prove apt and docile some additional teaching is given 
in the evening class. 

“The subject of prison recreation is one to which we 
have given much time and thought. The custom of allow¬ 
ing unrestrained intercourse between convicts of all ages 
and grades, even for a limited time and in the presence 
of an officer, seems to us unwise, for all experience shows 
that the conversation of prisoners, when left to them¬ 
selves, will certainly relate to their sinful past. In such 
“recreation” there is no good and much harm, since it 
effectually destroys the tender growth of a new purpose, 
and gives added impulse to the unruly and evil disposed. 
We endeavor therefore, by various expedients, to break 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 199 


into this free recreation time, and turn it to a better use. 

“In the first place, the different grades, four in number, 
are never, either in work or recreation, allowed to converse 
together. Each has its own corridor and cell block, its 
own recreation and dining rooms, and its own division of 
seats in the chapel; and in the latter place, as well in the 
work rooms and school room, no conversation is per¬ 
mitted. Even among members of the same grade the 
recreation, allowed for a half hour each day, is made 
general as often as possible by readings, music, games, 
simple .entertainments, often arranged by the women 
themselves. For the higher grades an evening temperance 
club, managed by the prisoners, has proved of great inter¬ 
est and profit. The literary efforts of some of the women 
are surprisingly good. The little silver T. given as a 
club badge, and attached to the breast by a knot of 
red ribbon, helps to produce an esprit du corps, which 
in its way is beneficial both to the members and to us 
who are trying to inculcate the principles of “temperance, 
truth and trust/' for which the T stands. The red ribbon 
in itself is the badge of the “trust women” who consti¬ 
tute the higher grades of Division IV, and are those only 
who have maintained from the day of their entrance into 
the prison an unbroken record for obedience and honest 
effort. 

“Of course the prisoners themselves are not aware of 
our wish to interfere with their recreation time. They 
are very jealous of what they consider their rights, and 
whatever we do, must be managed with tact, not to antago¬ 
nize them, and so destroy the good effect of our efforts. 

“I have tried in this short space to give you an outline 


200 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS. 


of the spirit and methods of work in the Massachusetts 
Reformatory Prison for women. To sum up briefly, the 
principles are these: 

“A criminal reformed is a citizen gained.” 

“No criminal is incorrigible.” 

‘‘Love rules better than fear.” 

“Perhaps these thoughts can be stated in no better 
way than in the words of your own noble philanthropist, 
Elizabeth Frye; words which have guided and inspired pri¬ 
son workers on both sides of the water.” 

“The spirit must be the spirit, not of judgment but of 
mercy.” 

“In our conduct towards these unfortunate females, 
kindness, gentleness and true humility ought ever to be 
united with serenity and firmness.” 

“The good principle in the hearts of many abandoned 
persons may be compared to the few remaining sparks 
of a nearly extinguished fire. By means of the utmost 
care and attention, united with the most gentle treatment, 
these may be fanned into a flame, but under the operation 
of a rough and violent hand they will presently disappear 
and be lost forever. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE NATIONAL PRISON CONGRESS. 

By Chaplain D. J. Starr, D.D. 

The following report of the National Prison Congress 
was reported by Chaplain D. J. Starr, D. D., of the Ohio 
Penitentiary, for the Western Christian Advocate, and 
is given here by permission. 

The holding of the National Prison Congress of 1902 
in Philadelphia was like the coming of a child back to 
its home; for the first meeting held in this country for 
the amelioration of the condition of prisoners and the 
prevention of crime was held in the Quaker City in 1776 
almost a twin to the Declaration of Independence, as both 
were born of the spirit of liberty and of love for human¬ 
ity. The first National Prison Congress was held in Cin¬ 
cinnati in 1870, and was presided over by Hon. Ruther¬ 
ford B. Hayes, who, until the day of his death, gave val¬ 
uable support to this cause. Governor Stone, of Penn¬ 
sylvania, welcomed the Congress with words of discrim¬ 
inating commendation, and was followed by Mayor Ash- 
bridge and Judge G. H. Davis, of Philadelphia. Hon. 
Frederick H. Wines, of Washington, replied in behalf of 
the Congress. 

One of Governor Stone’s utterances was: “You are 
doing a great work, but I doubt if the public fully under¬ 
stands or appreciates the nature of that work. There are 
more men and women in Pennsylvania to-day who are 


202 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

striving to prevent cruelty to animals than are striving 
to prevent cruelty to human beings.” 

Professor Charles R. Henderson, of the University of 
Chicago, delivered an able address as president of the 
Congress. 

The Prison Congress consists of three sections: an as¬ 
sociation of prison wardens, an association of prison 
chaplains, and an association of prison physicians. Be¬ 
sides the general meetings of the Congress, the sections 
carry on the work of their several departments in respect¬ 
ive lines, yet all converge to promote the welfare of pris¬ 
oners and of society. Unity in variety characterizes the 
proceedings of every session. Each warden, chaplain, 
physician, and penologist pursues his investigations in¬ 
dependently, and brings the results of them as his con¬ 
tribution to the general cause. 

WARDEN’S DEPARTMENT. 

There is a wide difference in the standards of prison 
requirements and the methods of maintaining discipline 
and enforcing obedience. The representatives of the 
Canada prisons enforce obedience by the infliction of 
stripes, and think that the most humane, efficient, and 
economical way. 

Dr. N. T. Gilmour, warden at Ontario, in his address 
on Prison Discipline, said: “In the non-destructive class 
of punishments we place whipping, and whipping alone.” 
In most of the prisons of the United States discipline is 
secured by solitary confinement and diminished rations, 
rather than by flagellations; and Dr. Gilmour’s radical 
position was not at first favorably received, and created 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


203 


something of a sensation. But when Dr. Gilmour ex¬ 
plained that in punishment he never allowed the lash to 
be used, but a strap, and that he had formerly tried soli¬ 
tary confinement and cut rations, and that he found these 
wasteful of valuable time and unfavorable to the prison¬ 
er’s health, and favored whipping as better for the pris¬ 
oner than incarceration or the “water,” his conclusions 
were better thought of. The consensus of opinion was 
that prisoners require individual treatment, and the war¬ 
dens must judge what is indicated in each case. Still there 
is a constant tendency away from the whipping-post and 
toward such forms of punishment as will force reflection 
upon the recalcitrant. 

Rev. Dr. Russell Conwell, of Philadelphia, spoke em¬ 
phatically against the whipping-post. Delaware has now 
almost a monopoly of the whipping-post amongst the 
States of the Union, as lashing has been the punishment 
in the “Blue Hen State” from the beginning for felonies 
and wife-beaters. The number of lashes is usually from 
five to forty, but several years ago one offender received 
one hundred lashes in broken doses. Warden A. S. 
Meserve, of the Delaware State Prison, does not favor 
whipping, presumably because the statute requires that 
the warden shall administer it in person. 

CHAPLAIN’S DEPARTMENT. 

Indications are that in nearly all prisons there is a 
growing importance attached to moral and religious work 
amongst prisoners. In nearly, if not quite every State 
prison there is a chaplain appointed to care in a non¬ 
sectarian way for the moral and religious welfare of pris- 


204 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


oners; and in several prisons a priest is also employed 
to teach the tenets of the Roman Catholic Church. No 
chaplain is allowed to teach distinctive Protestantism or 
sectarianism; but a priest may teach his dogma without 
restriction. 

In the prisons of Canada free scope is given to the 
Salvation Army workers, and with gratifying results. 
Also in prisons of the United States these soldiers are a 
valuable help to the chaplains. Sunday schools and Bi¬ 
ble classes, besides chapel services, are held by many 
chaplains, with reports of most favorable results. The 
Sunday school classes are generally taught by Christian 
men from city churches. 

In the Ohio Penitentiary a large Sunday school, with 
voluntary attendance, is held at eight o’clock, a largely- 
attended prayer and testimony meeting is held at nine 
o’clock, and public chapel services attended by all prison¬ 
ers and many visitors at ten o’clock. In addition to these, 
Bible classes are held in the female department Sunday 
afternoons and in the men’s department Sunday and Fri¬ 
day evenings. Roman Catholic services for all who wish 
to go are held at eight o’clock Sunday mornings by a 
priest of that church. 

Numerous conversions are reported in most of the 
prisons every week. Of course, there is the possibility of 
profession without possession in the prison, as well as 
out of it; but the chances of deception are less under the 
expert chaplain than under the pastor. 

Are the results of prison conversions lasting? Yes, 
if they are genuine, just as on the outside. 

Papers were read at the Congress by Rev. William J. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 205 

Batt, chaplain of the Massachusetts Reformatory; by Rev. 
W. H. Locke, chaplain of the Ohio Reformatory; and by 
the chaplain of the Ohio Penitentiary; and out of these 
grew valuable discussions and useful conclusions. A val¬ 
uable paper was also presented by Professor J. A. Leon¬ 
ard, superintendent of the Ohio Reformatory, and War¬ 
den W. N. Darby, of Columbus, spoke on the good record 
that is being made by many discharged prisoners. Mr. 
A. W. Butler, of Indianapolis, also presented an excellent 
paper on “Discharged Prisoners.” 

PROGRESS IN PRISON REFORM. 

It may reasonably be asked, What good results have 
been attained by the work of the Prison Congress since 
President Hayes presided over its first session thirty-two 
years ago? 

Much every way; but these results can only be indi¬ 
cated here. The attention of the world is being directed 
to prison problems; for these concern humanity. Legis¬ 
lation against crime and for its punishment and preven¬ 
tion is becoming more intelligent. The basis of impris¬ 
onment has been changed. Imprisonment is not venge¬ 
ful, but for the protection of society and the reforma¬ 
tion of the prisoner. Crime has been traced back toward 
its sources, and measures are being taken to prevent its 
increase. It is now well known that the back door of 
the saloon opens into the front door of the prison. Care 
is being intelligently taken of criminally-inclined children, 
to prevent them from growing into penitentiary convicts; 
and the conversion and salvation of prisoners are demon¬ 
strated facts. 


206 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

The observance of the last Sunday of October by all 
the churches of the United States as “Prison Sunday/' 
for the consideration of related questions, was earnestly 
requested. Pastors wishing information on such ques¬ 
tions can obtain some helps by applying, if in Ohio, to 
Mr. Joseph P. Byers, secretary State Board of Charities, 
at Columbus, or to the secretary of such board in other 
states. 

Ohio had the largest representation in the Congress 
of any state, except Pennsylvania. The hospitalities of 
Philadelphia to the Congress were beyond description, 
and will never be forgotten. 



CORRIDOR IN CELL HOUSE 






















































































ILLINOIS STATE PENITENTIARY 









CHAPTER XVII. 


THE MODEL/ PRISON 
David D. Thompson, 

Editor Northwestern Christian Advocate. 

By Permission. 

The great improvements which have been made in 
provision for the care of prisoners as well as the pro¬ 
tection of society from criminals since the day when 
John Howard began his advocacy of prison reform, is 
well illustrated in the Illinois state penitentiary at Joliet. 
Warden E. J. Murphy, however, maintains that discipline 
which causes the prisoner to feel that the criminal dis¬ 
regard of the law receives, as it deserves, proper pun¬ 
ishment. The later methods of prison management, 
which are based upon the principle of reforming the pris¬ 
oner, are employed, but not in such manner as to sacri¬ 
fice the sentiment of just retribution. 

There are at Joliet about 1,240 convicts, of whom fifty- 
two are women. The women occupy a separate build¬ 
ing, which is in every respect a model. It is provided 
with the latest improvements which are designed in the 
interest of economy and health. The cells are prison 
cells, but they are large and airy and are provided with 
running water. These are, however, in striking contrast 
with the small, objectionable and unsanitary cells in the 
building devoted to men, which are but four feet wide 
and are insufficiently provided with decent, not to say 
proper, toilet accommodations. The woman’s building 


210 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


is perhaps the most notable work of the administration 
of Governor Altgeld and for it he deserves praise. It is 
to be hoped that some other governor of Illinois may be 
able to persuade the legislature to signalize his adminis¬ 
tration with a similar improvement in the cell accommo¬ 
dations of the male prisoners. Convicts should not be 
made to feel that prison life is a luxury, or even a con¬ 
venience, but it is the duty of the state in assuming the 
responsibility of punishing criminals to be humane at least 
in caring for them; and this the penitentiary at Joliet is 
except in the size and necessities of the cells. 

An interesting feature of the institution is a library 
under the direction of the chaplain, Rev. S. W. Thorn¬ 
ton, D. D., under whose direction every prisoner is per¬ 
mitted to read such books as he may desire, with a col¬ 
lection of 12,000 to draw from. These books include 
history, travel, biography, science, religion, philosophy, 
sociology, education, arts and literature as well as fic¬ 
tion. Of the thousands of books issued during the past 
year about forty-six per cent were of a solid character. 
The chaplain is responsible also for the conduct of a night 
school, in which during the past year 200 prisoners were 
enrolled. These men had so little education that they 
could hardly have passed the fourth grade in a public 
school, and more than a score, when they entered the 
school, were unable to either read or write, but at the 
end of five or six months could do both. 

In July, 1895, the legislature of Illinois adopted the 
new parole law. Under this law all prisoners convicted 
and sentenced to the penitentiary are given an indeter¬ 
minate sentence of not less than the minimum term for 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 211 

the crime of which they are convicted nor more than the 
maximum term formerly provided. The exact length of 
confinement is now determined by the state board of par¬ 
dons. If, for example, a man is sentenced for burglary, 
he must serve the minimum term of one year, and may 
be required to serve the maximum of twenty years. Aft¬ 
er serving one year he may be released upon parole at 
any time in the discretion of the board of pardons, ex¬ 
cept that he shall not be confined beyond the maximum 
term. His release upon parole, however, will not occur 
until the board is fully satisfied that he is thoroughly 
desirous of becoming and remaining a good, law-abiding 
citizen and that he is able to become and remain such. 
The decision of the board is based upon his record pre¬ 
vious to conviction, the circumstances of his crime and 
his record as a prisoner. There must be, in addition, a 
promise from his friends or some responsible person of 
satisfactory employment for the prisoner before he will 
be released on parole. After his release from the peni¬ 
tentiary he must make a written report at regular intervals 
to the warden and must not change his employment with¬ 
out permission from the warden. He must abstain from 
the use of intoxicating liquors in any form and must 
avoid evil associations and improper places of amusement. 
The violation of any of the rules forfeits his parole. At 
the end of a year, or such longer time as the discretion 
of the board of pardons may determine, he may be given 
a final discharge. 

The parole system is said to have worked most sat¬ 
isfactorily. Previous to Sept. 30, 1898, 452 prisoners 
were paroled. Of these, 269 reported for twelve month:, 


212 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


and received their final discharge, sixty-seven were re¬ 
turned for violation of parole, four were convicted and 
returned under new sentences, and ninety-five were de¬ 
faulters at large, subject to arrest and return. During 
the following two years 886 prisoners were paroled, of 
whom 347 reported for twelve months and received their 
final discharge, 274 were reporting regularly at the date 
the report was made, ninety-two were returned for vio¬ 
lation of parole, one had been convicted and returned 
under new sentence, 141 were defaulters at large, subject 
to arrest and return. 

About the time of the adoption of the parole system 
the state also changed the dress of the convicts, who now 
wear a gray suit instead of the former stripes, the stripes 
being worn only as a punishment by those who violate 
their parole or have in some other way broken the rules. 
The change in the dress is one of the most commend¬ 
able reforms in the prison management. A large per¬ 
centage of the convicts are men who are not criminals 
at heart, but have committed crime under some impulse. 
They are subjects for reformation and, when released 
under favorable conditions, will make good citizens and 
worthy members of society. To such persons the wear¬ 
ing of the striped dress was a degradation from which 
escape seemed hopeless. The adoption of the new dress 
preserves in large measure the self-respect of the pris¬ 
oners, and when released they come into the world again 
with a spirit of hopefulness and courage. 

With such persons there is opportunity for the chap¬ 
lain to render the service of a brother, and the men hold¬ 
ing this position are, as a class, doing the work to which 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 213 

they are appointed. The letters which Chaplain Thorn¬ 
ton has received show the gratitude of those to whom 
he has ministered in prison. For the benefit of the con¬ 
victs the chaplain conducts a chapel service every Sun¬ 
day morning, at which, though the attendance is volun¬ 
tary, he has a congregation of prisoners averaging 750. 
He conducts also a Sunday-school at which there is an 
average attendance of 200. In this he is assisted by five 
gentlemen from the downtown churches of Joliet. 

The employment of convicts is one of the most diffi¬ 
cult problems with which the administrators of prisons 
have to deal. It is not just that the labor of violators of 
law should be so utilized as by competition to reduce the 
wages of those who are law abiding. It is necessary, how¬ 
ever, to give them occupation, otherwise many would 
become insane, and it is desirable that they earn at least 
part of the expense of their support. At Joliet the prob¬ 
lem is solved by using the least possible amount of ma¬ 
chinery, most of the work being done by hand. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


PRISON REFORM. 

By Rev. G. W. Switzer, D. D. 

By Permission. 

Synopsis of sermon in the First Methodist Episcopal 
church, LaPorte, Sunday evening, October 27th, by the 
pastor, Rev. G. W. Switzer, D. D. 

Text, Romans xv, 1. We then that are strong ought 
to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please 
ourselves. Also part of the third verse, For Christ pleased 
not himself. 

The sermon was preached in response to the invita¬ 
tion of the Board of State Charities to observe the fourth 
Sabbath of October in the interest of Prison Reform. 
No announcement of the theme had been made, but the 
usual congregation asembled, well filling the auditorium. 
The pastor stated that it might not seem to a congrega¬ 
tion that it could have any especial interest in the theme 
of Prison Reform, situated in the beautiful law-abiding 
city of EaPorte. But there are phases of this topic, now 
of national interest and should be of interest to every 
citizen. These three phases were then presented and 
considered: 

The criminal population within the prisons. 

The principles for their reformation. 

The conditions that cause criminals and their correc¬ 
tion. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


215 


Under the first topic it was stated that there were in 
the prisons and reformatories of the United States more 
than eighty thousand men, women, boys and girls. A 
significant fact is that over fifty-six thousand were un¬ 
der thirty-five years of age, and more than sixty-five 
thousand under forty years of age. These facts would 
lead to the conclusion that it is not the old and unfor¬ 
tunate who are driven to crime, but that the young axe 
the ones who choose criminal practice. 

In Indiana, in 1898, there were in all the prisons and 
reformatories, twenty-six hundred and twenty-six. Three 
hundred and twenty-one were women and girk. 

Besides those in prisons, are the large number in the 
jails and those not under arrest, who are as truly crim¬ 
inals as those behind the prison walls. 

The work of reformation was the second topic. The 
work in the prisons, and after the prisoner’s release, was 
considered. The parole system was explained and .high¬ 
ly commended. It furnished a motive for good conduct 
and an incentive for release that had with the release, 
* the honor of dismissal with the minimum amount of time 
in the prison. This would be to the credit of the man 
when out in life. 

Under the second topic was considered the duty of 
the people to give recognition to those out on their pa¬ 
role. They ought to have encouragement. The people 
are the strong of the “text” who ought to bear the in¬ 
firmities of the weak. The paroled man deserves help. 
He is handicapped. He is fighting a hard battle. He 
is trying to win with the odds against him. And then 
he has had his punishment, and in all probability is farther 


216 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


convinced of the wrong of his life and the value of a 
good character, than the many who have by cunning 
never been apprehended, but who have been equally 
guilty of wrong doing. The paroled man has already 
had one victory earned, he has his parole. Now the 
complete reformation is to be secured by help to earn 
an honest living and become not a member of the 
criminal class, but a strong member of the law abiding 
community. 

Under the third topic, the conditions that cause crim¬ 
inals and their correction, the practical side of the dis¬ 
cussion was presented. The causes of crime may be found 
in some of the general conditions. In the criminals of 
Indiana, it is found that twenty-five per cent are unable 
to read and fifty per cent have not passed beyond the 
fourth grade, where a ten year old child ought to be. 
And less than five per cent have reached the high school. 
These facts would indicate that the lack of the discipline 
and inspiration of education might have something to do 
as a condition favoring‘criminal tendencies. 

Another fact from this class is that seventy-five per 
cent have no trade, and that ninety-five per cent have no 
trade that is well learned. This reveals two things. That 
while the education has been neglected, it has not been 
for the purpose of learning a trade. The conclusion is 
that the period of youth has been spent in idleness and 
that idleness and ignorance are twin causes of crime. 

Another fact is that eighty per cent of those in the 
prisons, have been users of alchoholic beverages. There 
is no doubt that intoxicating drink not only robs men of 
their money, but of their character. The saloon is a 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 217 

breeder of crime. As surely as ignorance and idleness 
produce crime, so does indulgence in intoxicating bever¬ 
ages. The statistics of the criminal class will confirm 
this. Ignorance, idleness and drunkenness, produce the 
class that cannot be allowed to be at large but must be 
incarcerated, and their reformation sought for on lines 
for the overthrow of the causes of crime and furnish¬ 
ing of the conditions that produce good citizenship. 
Hence, in the prisons, schools are conducted to over¬ 
come the ignorance. Young men come out of these 
schools, able to read and write and have a new concep¬ 
tion of life. In the prisons, the trade system is prac¬ 
ticed. Men are taught to do something that will enable 
them to earn an honest living when they have earned 
their parole. Within the prison total abstinence is the 
rule. It is prohibition with the class that would the least 
practice it if without the prison, but who most need it 
for their own recovery and future good. And in many 
of the reformatories tobacco is not allowed to the pris¬ 
oners. The blood is cleared, self-denial practiced, and 
the better lesson is taught that they do not need the in¬ 
dulgence of intoxicants. 

Now if the same rules would prevail without the pris¬ 
on that prevail within, a man might come out and con¬ 
tinue his good record. He might not only have earned 
his parole, but in the eyes of the world earn his right 
to a good standing in the ranks of the honest wage- 
earners and self-supporters. 

Our duties in this great question of reform, are not 
only to those that come from the prison, but to those 
who have not yet gone in, but who will go in if they are 


218 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

not stimulated with the principles that keep men from join¬ 
ing the dissolute classes. Our duty is to give education to 
the children. Let it be compulsory if it need be. Better 
compulsory education in the school houses of the land 
with the American flag floating above, than within the 
prison where a guard, armed with a rifle stands on the 
walls. If ignorance is a cause of crime, it is better and 
cheaper to abolish it than to pay the penalty of the cost 
of courts and prison reform and then send a man out 
to meet the cold charities of the world. 

If idleness is a cause of crime, it ought likewise to be 
overcome. The unemployed should be put to work where 
at least they could earn their support. 

And we can come to no other conclusion in regard 
to the third cause of crime. We would have no hope of 
a paroled man if he at once frequents the den of drink 
and dissipation. In fact we are wise enough to make 
that act a cause of the forfeiture of the parole. Why 
not be wise enough to take that cause out of the way 
both of the youth who is preparing for life’s work and 
from the man who is trying to overcome life’s follies? 
The saloon has no logical place in our civilization. They 
stigmatize those who conduct them, by their own con¬ 
fessions. In Muncie, Ind., August 14, 1901, Joseph H. 
Schaub, in an address to the Knights of Fidelity (an or¬ 
ganization of saloon-keepers), said in part: “Our chil¬ 
dren are scorned at the public schools, our wives are os¬ 
tracised from society, and we are looked upon as a set 
of thieves and knaves.” These words truly represent a 
condition. But the saloon does more than that. It 
takes the honest wages without an adequate return. It 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 219 

gives that which destroys self-reliance. It robs the de¬ 
pendent ones of that which by the legal and moral right 
belongs to them for their food and clothing. And again, 
the saloon has become a place for the congregating of 
the criminal classes. It is there the anarchists often 
meet. It is there that temptation is presented to the 
youth. It is there the weak fall a prey to vices that 
crush the nobler feeling of life. As truly as the paroled 
man ought to be kept from the saloon, so ought the 
man who is in danger of crime be kept from it. If the 
absence of it from the prison is necessary for the crim¬ 
inal’s reformation of character, so the absence of it from 
the streets of the city is necessary for the youth’s forma¬ 
tion of character. 

Abolish ignorance and idleness and the saloon, and 
we have taken the causes of nine-tenths of all crimes and 
reduced them to the least possible chance for harm. 

This is our duty. We need to awake to it. We are 
seeing things as they exist. The movement is on and 
will not stop until the evils are corrected. The progress 
has begun. We will never turn backwards. Soon may 
the time come when the weak shall have the strength 
of the strong for their preparation for life as well as for 
the reformation of it. This was the spirit of Christ. Not 
to please himself. We are not to please ourselves, but 
take these infirmities, furnish a helping hand to the fal¬ 
len ones, and keep those not fallen from the temptations 
of vice until the man stands in the strength of mature 
manhood. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


•RISON PROBLEMS, GATHERED HERE AND THERE. 

Christian Responsibilities Regarding Crime. 

In 1884 a large company of New York clergymen who 
saw the responsibility of the Christian church for every 
movement having for its purpose the uplifting of the fallen, 
after careful consideration recommended that the fourth 
Sunday of October in each year be observed as Prison 
Sunday. Since that time the day has been set apart by 
many churches for the consideration of those interests of 
the community which are connected with the wise treat¬ 
ment of the criminal. 

In the intervening years great progress has been made 
in dealing with delinquent members of society. Formerly 
the main purpose of the State was the punishment of the 
criminal. When this was accomplished he was returned to 
the community, usually unimproved in character, to con¬ 
tinue in ways of crime if he chose. But a different view 
is now taken. It is seen that the protection of the com¬ 
munity demands the reformation of the criminal, as well 
as his punishment; that the State owes it to itself, as well 
as to the offender, that the period of incarceration shall be 
used for this purpose, and that no man shall be returned 
by the State to the community until there is a reasonable 
probability that he will live an orderly life. 

This change in the attitude of the State toward the 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF' PRISON LIFE. 221 

criminal involves great changes in all the methods of 
dealing with him, and has compelled attention to many new 
questions. 

The importance of preventive work has commanded a 
recognition never before accorded to it, and it has become 
a distinct field of labor, in the hands of earnest men and 
women who are giving it the best available thought. 

It has been discovered that in many cases the new pur¬ 
pose of the State can be accomplished best without im¬ 
prisonment, by supervision under probation officers, and 
the use of that method has attracted constantly increas¬ 
ing attention, with excellent results. 

The importance of classifying prisoners has acquired 
new emphasis, and the duty of separating the beginner in 
crime from the hardened offender is now recognized. 

There has been a careful study of the methods most 
likely to reform offenders, and institutions have been 
created equipped with every facility for applying these 
methods and administered with this well defined purpose. 

It has been found that there are criminals who do not 
yield to any reformatory methods yet discovered, and there 
is an increasing response to the demand of students of 
prison science that the apparently incorrigible, heretofore 
discharged at the end of short sentences to prey again 
upon society, shall be imprisoned permanently. 

These changes in the attitude of the State towards 
the criminal make necessary a change in the attitude of the 
community. So long as the State merely punished the 
offender, the good citizen had little to say or do with the 
crime question. The work was one for prison keepers; 
it must be done inside prison walls. But the community 


222 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

has a share in the new work now accepted by the State 
as a duty. 

The probation system, under which the State attempts 
to secure the reformation of wrong-doers without imprison¬ 
ing them, cannot attain its largest success without the 
intelligent co-operation of the best citizens, who must insist 
upon the selection of the right men as probation officers, 
and must aid them in their work. 

There must also be co-operation between reformatory 
institutions and the community in dealing with those who 
have been subjected to reformatory treatment. The re¬ 
formed criminal must be restored to his place in the world. 
The work of reforming him must be left mainly to the 
institution; his restoration must be effected by the com¬ 
munity, whose attitude toward him when he is discharged 
must be changed materially before its best work can be 
accomplished. 

Notwithstanding the great progress made in the last 
twenty years, much remains to be done. The volume of 
crime is still enormous. The causes of crime are well 
known, but little is done to remove them. Preventive work 
among children and youth commands the attention of only 
a few people, and there is little organized effort to keep the 
boys and girls from going astray. 

Reformatories have been established which are doing 
excellent work, but the State continues to merely punish 
the vast majority of its criminals, regardless of its clear 
obligation to attempt to reform them. 

Most of our prisoners are still herded together without 
any effort at classification, and the State continues to dis¬ 
charge into the community scores of thousands of crimi- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


223 


nals every year who are known to be unimproved in char¬ 
acter or purpose. 

The evils still existing in our methods of dealing with 
criminals are tolerated because of the indifference and 
ignorance of the people. They will not cease until public 
sentiment demands their removal. The creation of a better 
public sentiment depends largely upon discussion. The 
churches furnish intelligent and sympathetic audiences for 
such discussion. Every pastor owes it to his people that 
they shall be informed of the facts regarding crime and 
its treatment, and the experience of many clergymen has 
shown that he will find them thoughtful and sympathetic 
in receiving facts and arguments presented to them, and 
responsive to appeals for attention to the needs and claims 
of this large class. 

The Massachusetts Prison Association joins with the 
National Association in urging the more general observ¬ 
ance of Prison Sunday, at least once a year, either upon 
the fourth Sunday in October, or upon some other Sunday, 
if that is otherwise occupied. 

The Man Behind The Bars, 

Hon. C. E. Faulkner, Supt. Washburn Memorial Orphan 
Asylum, Minneapolis. 

The man behind the bars of a prison wall represents 
an interrogation point in social economics. He is there 
because he has offended society by ignoring the duties 
and neglecting the proprieties which form a proper part 
of his contribution to the public good. 

Why has he been guilty of the offenses whidh subject 


224 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


him to the displeasure of his fellows? This is a question 
suggested by the mute figure behind the bars. He may, 
or he may not, be able to answer it intelligently. If the 
cause of his offending originates within the lines of control 
which define his own personality, he will have knowledge 
of the element of impulse, or choice, which made him a 
criminal. If a contributing cause of his offending be dis¬ 
covered in the heredity or the environment bequeathed 
to him as an uncontrollable inheritance, society must aid 
him with his answer. 

The urgency of inquiry in his case is, however, not 
so much a question of how he got there as of what is to 
become of him when the prison doors open for him to pass 
out again into the world ? 

. The right answer to this question will be framed in 
recognition of the truth that whereas the man was at the 
time of his imprisonment a free agent in the social world 
with certain power for good or evil, the fact of his impris¬ 
onment has lessened his power for good, without in corres¬ 
ponding degree lessening his power for evil. It is there¬ 
fore the manifest duty of society to restore by opportunity 
the equilibrium of equity in the personal equation pre¬ 
sented. 

There are two essentials of conduct required in the res¬ 
toration of a dischared prisoner to his place in society,* 
under conditions to insure his value as a member. 

First:—His manhood. If it be missing, and cannot 
be recovered, the man will either relapse into bad ways, 
and return to prison, or become a torment to society by 
deserving its displeasure, and becoming expert in escaping 
it. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


225 


Second :—Society must open its ranks to the discharged 
prisoner under conditions which insure his well being. It 
has been the shame of society that necessity often compels 
the discharged prisoner to slink away from frequented 
paths in order to escape the questioning look, and the 
unmistakable evidences of distrust which greet him from 
former acquaintances. Whenever a discharged prisoner 
is compelled to hide his identity in order to secure a fair 
place in the ranks of honorable employment, and social 
recognition, he suffers in self respect, and lives in fekr of 
the discovery which will sooner or later overtake and con¬ 
fuse him. 

These considerations make it imperative to the best 
results that society meet the discharged prisoner at the 
prison gates, offering a sincere hand of fellowship, and an 
open chance for him to prove that he is indeed worthy of 
the complete recognition which an honorable manhood de¬ 
mands. 

An obstacle to the employment of discharged prisoners 
in places of trust, is a fear that they may abuse the con¬ 
fidence reposed in them. Facts in experience do not justi¬ 
fy this fear, but it illustrates the general attitude of society 
towards those who have passed under the ban of its dis¬ 
pleasure. If men are to be restored to the opportunities 
for honest living, and prisons are to be depopulated 
through a wise study of means for rehabilitating the man¬ 
hood of inmates released to the mercy of the world, busi¬ 
ness men who accompany their prayers with worthy deeds, 
must exhibit a willingness to open the way for the work. 


226 THE MAN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

The Recoverableness Of The Lost 
Rev. Dr. Richard S. Storrs. 

No one need exaggerate, every one should recognize, 
the weakness and wretchedness, the exposure and peril of 
human society. When we remember that in this universe 
of ours destiny clings closely to character, has never any¬ 
thing mechanical or arbitrary about it, but follows the 
spirit which enters into it, then those tremendous words 
of our Lord in the twenty-fifth of Matthew have upon 
them an appalling sharpness and reach, as addressed to 
great classes and companies of mankind; and we must 
recognize it, and hear the solemn bell of the universe ring¬ 
ing through His word, and telling us of what is to be 
looked for in the Hereafter. 

But then with this recognition of the exposure and 
peril of human society, of mankind at large, we must as¬ 
sociate the recognition of the recoverableness to truth, to 
virtue and to God, of persons and of peoples who are now 
involved in these calamities and pains, to whom now un¬ 
rest and apprehension are as natural as speech or sight— 
the recoverableness of men as persons, and of communities 
as well as persons. 

Here, of course, we come into direct antagonism with 
the pessimist, who says, “It is all nonsense! You can’t 
possibly do the work! You can’t take these ragged and 
soiled remnants of humanity in your city streets and weave 
them into purple and golden garments for the Master; 
you cannot accomplish the effect which you contemplate 
in the cities in your own land, along the frontier, or in 
other lands. It is as impossible to make the unchaste pure, 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 227 

to make the mean noble, as it is to make crystal lenses out 
of mud, or the uelicate, elastic watch-spring out ct the 
iron slag!” 

That is the world’s view, a common and a hateful view. 
Our answer to it is that the thing can be done, and has 
been done, and done in such multitudes of instances that 
there is no use whatever in arguing against the fact. Christ 
came from the heavens to the earth on an errand. He knew 
what was in man; and he did not come from the celestial 
seats on an errand seen and known beforehand to be fruit¬ 
less and futile. He came because he knew the interior, 
central, divine element in human nature, to which he could 
appeal and by which he could lift men toward things trans¬ 
cendent. We have seen the examples of success how many 
times! hundreds, yea even thousands of times, in our own 
communities (as missionaries have seen them in the lands 
abroad), where the woman intemperate, in harlotry, in 
despair, has been lifted to restored womanhood, as the 
pearl oyster is brought up with its precious contents from 
the slimy ooze; where the man whose lips had been charged 
with foulest blasphemies has become the preacher of the 
gospel of light and love, of hope and peace, to others, his 
former comrades; where the feet that were swift to do evil 
have become beautiful on the mountains in publishing sal¬ 
vation. We have seen these things in individuals and in 
communities; in the roughest frontier mining camp, where 
every door opened on a saloon, or a brothel, or a gambling 
table, and where, by the power coming from on high, it 
has been transformed into the peaceful Christian village, 
with the home, with the school, with the church, with the 
asylum, with the holy song, where the former customary 


228 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

music had been the crack of revolvers. We have seen the 
same thing on a larger scale in the coral islands, scenes of 
savage massacre and of cannibal riot and ferocity, where 
the church has been planted and Christian fellowships have 
been established and maintained. We have seen these 
things, and why argue against facts? 

The Treatment Of Vagrancy. 

Maud Ballington Booth, of the Volunteers of America. 

The vagrancy so prevalent in American communities 
has naturally caused many sugestions as to the best means 
of eliminating or curing it, but I cannot see that we have 
yet found anything that will do more than afford tem¬ 
porary relief. The reformation of the slums is a difficult 
problem to solve. My experience in connection with the 
Volunteers of America has led me to believe that the 
plan for colonizing the idle and destitute of the cities with 
the expectation that they will remain permanently in the 
country and become contented and thrifty is not practical. 
The results of such experiments thus far indicate that they 
cannot succeed. One reason is because the associations of 
a city have a fascination for all classes of residents, which 
it is hard to resist. Even the homeless wanderers feel 
isolated when transferred to the country, and long for the 
old life, although their condition may be much better. A 
temporary sojourn in the country for those who are broken 
down physically by leading dissolute lives is undoubtedly 
a wise plan, for they can be strengthened to withstand the 
temptation to fall into their old ways. Men and boys 
released from the penitentiary and jail can also have an 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 229 

opportunity to go into some quiet spot and away from the 
evil surroundings of the city and regain the character they 
have lost. I have advocated this course in my work among 
the prisoners, but they should acquire a trade or be placed 
in the way of getting some means of livelihood, while isola¬ 
ted from city life, if their reform is to be permanent. 

Much . can be accomplished by providing shelters for 
the destitute and homeless, where they can have food and 
lodging without the proximity of the saloon usually found 
in connection with cheap hotels or boarding houses. Our 
shelters in Chicago, for instance, accommodate large num¬ 
bers of persons. They are provided with bathing facilities, 
and the rooms differ in price so that one can be provided 
for by paying a little extra if he desires. Religious influ¬ 
ences are thrown about them, and the results justify the 
effort, but I realize that the great proportion of the lodgers 
utilize the shelters for temporary convenience, and that 
this plan merely relieves and does not effect permanent 
cure for vagrancy. 

My conclusion as to the best means of treating the 
whole subject is that the class under consideration should 
be treated as indiivduals, not in bodies. If the workers 
among them should each pick out a special subject and 
attempt to induce him or her to change their mode of 
living, much better results would be reached. A large pro¬ 
portion of them have known no other manner of living, 
and have followed the idle and vicious ways of their 
parents. Religious advice, in the form of addresses, no 
matter how forcible and eloquent, has no effect on such 
people. They are too deadened to realize the meaning 
of the advice. Only individual effort will benefit them. The 


230 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


various denominations can accomplish much in reforming 
the slums by carrying out systematic plans of work. The 
various churches should have an understanding so that each 
body will be in harmony with the others and interests will 
not conflict. In smaller cities of 100,000 population and 
less, I believe the congregations can do better operating 
together. At Auburn, N. Y., for example, this scheme is 
followed and the result is that the City Mission is sup¬ 
ported jointly by the different congregations. It is in 
charge of the Volunteers and includes a hall for meetings, 
a lodging-house and also a restaurant. In larger cities the 
area which includes these classes is so large that it is per¬ 
haps better for each church or denomination to work by 
itself. The field can be mapped out into sections so that 
there need be no interference. With the comparatively 
numerous force that Christian people could supply the plan 
of individual effort ought to be carried out with little 
difficulty.—The Independent. 

A Public Duty. 

Rev. William H. Locke, Chaplain Ohio Reformatory. 

Every one can aid in the permanency of the reformation 
of the criminal by cultivating a personal faith that much 
is done for his moral uplifting in the prison, and by show¬ 
ing his faith by his works. The released prisoner must be 
sought after as one whom the community needs, and not 
shunned, as is now the case, as- one whose room is better 
than his company. If his prison training has done any¬ 
thing whatever for him, it has made him more trustworthy. 
He has learned submission to authority, and how to deny 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 231 

himself. He knows how to be prompt and punctual, and 
what is meant by order and orderliness. He has been 
tested in a rigid school. If he is given a fair chance to 
do so, his new acquirements will prove him a better em¬ 
ploye than he was before in any industry. It is somewhat 
surprising that so many wise and shrewd employers should 
fail to see so patent a fact. 

It was said of Dante, by his ignorant neighbors, as he 
passed them in the street, “that man has been in hell.” 
Some people are yet disposed to think, after all the prog¬ 
ress of a quarter of a century, that a prison is no better 
than hell, and that the imprisoned man must ever after 
smell of brimstone. The public must learn to entertain 
other views, and to think other thoughts. We have built 
our Reformatories and maintain them at vast expense. 
The community must put more honor on its own created 
agencies, and have more faith in its own efforts to reclaim 
the wayward man. It must have a more practical faith in 
the man. “To tell men that they cannot help themselves 
is to thrust them into recklessness and despair.” 

The community has not done its whole duty when it 
has built the prison and delivered the prisoner to the 
keeping of the jailor. The prisoner is worth more than 
the prison; and the care which society takes of him while 
within walls, and the spirit with which it receives him 
when the walls give him up, will render certain or doubt¬ 
ful the permanency of the man’s reformation. 

The parole from prison to a place in the community is 
of great significance. It must be accepted in its broadest 
meaning to the man himself and to society. The parole 
is the highest endorsement which those who act for the 


232 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


State can give to a recovered manhood. They must be 
as cautious in giving it as a business man is in endorsing 
a note, and the public must be pleased to accept the State’s 
endorsement. 


Factors In Reformation. 

Miss Emma F. Car)', Ex-Commissioner of Prisons, 
Massachusetts. 

More years ago than I care to count I began in our 
county prison a modest attempt to study the peculiarities 
of the criminal class and the possibilities of reformation. 
There is no better field than a well ordered jail for such 
an investigation. Men serving long sentences are apt to 
become machines by living year in and year out according 
to a fixed routine, but in a jail they are moved by hope 
and fear, their pulses still beat in time with the pulses of 
the outside world; retribution hangs over them, it is true, 
but it has not yet dropped its iron weight upon their youth, 
their prime, the years that in better, more prudent or 
more fortunate men make the glory of manhood. Every 
kind of criminal is to be met there; the weak man, who 
has raised money on a bogus check to pay for food for 
his sick wife and buy clothes for his naked, newborn 
child; the defaulter, who has defrayed the expenses of his 
own excesses with trust money; the professional thief, 
the murderer and the tiny child crying for his mother, 
while he expiates the crime of snatching a bunch of grapes 
from a shop window. 

Among this varied throng in the course of years I 
learned that the strongest motive to reform is hope; that 




LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 233 

every element which enters into the reformation of crimi¬ 
nals is based upon hope. 

Is education important to reformation? Yes. If a 
man is serving a life sentence, all that widens his horizon 
tends to enlarge his prospects, at least within the prison 
walls. If his sentence is limited, education makes suc¬ 
cess in after life more possible; it widens the field of his 
hopes. 

Is employment needed for reformation? It is indis¬ 
pensable. It prevents despair in the “life-manit gives 
to other prisoners their best friend, hope. All the methods 
used in the best reformatories of the present day are in¬ 
tended to inspire prisoners with a hopeful spirit, to make 
them co-operate in the work of reformation. Grading in 
prisoners, commuted time, increased privileges, all give 
the prisoner something to live for, to hope for, to earn by 
good conduct. 

Is religion an important element in reformation? To 
one who, like myself, believes religion to be the best friend 
of every human being, it is difficult to answer this question 
with a due amount of restraint. But let it be looked at 
from a purely human standpoint. You and I should lose 
more than we should gain by crime; the members of the 
criminal class, to all appearance, gain more than they lose 
by crime. It is a short-sighted view, I allow, but to a 
man who cannot get work starvation looks near and lar¬ 
ceny looks tempting. Religion is the very fountain of 
hope and confidence in God. A discharged prisoner who 
has learned in prison to work well at a trade and to believe 
that God will, in time, answer reasonable prayers and 
reward the effort to do right, will be easily assisted and 


234 


ft 

THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

reformed by the agents of the prison association. If there 
is not a religious principle as the basis of reform, it is 
not likely to be permanent, because old habits and the 
specious and speedy rewards of crime are too strong for 
men of weak will and untrained intelligence to resist when 
a crisis comes. This applies to the prisoner trying to find 
a foothold in a world which despises him, if it remembers 
his existence. How must it be with a man condemned to 
spend the remainder of his days in prison? He has not 
only been guilty of a great crime, but he has spoiled his 
life by evil folly. Men may forgive sinners; only God 
looks with mercy upon the fool. If the thought of heaven 
is resting to the weary heart of the successful man, how 
must it look as a refuge to one who, in his teens, has 
ruined his life by a crime committed in a drunken frolic? 
Yes, religion is important for reformation, for, when the 
world preaches despair, religion offers hope, promises ap¬ 
preciation of every effort to do right, opens a new life to 
the man who has found the present life a stone wall impos¬ 
sible to scale. 

The Old And New Systems Compared. 

The Indiana Reformatory has a system under which 
the inmates earn wages and pay for their own support. 

Men in the upper grade receive 55 cents a day, in the 
middle grade 50, and in the lower grade 45. From his 
earnings each one is required to pay for his board, cloth¬ 
ing and, medical attendance. In the upper grade he is 
charged for board and clothing at the rate of 45 cents 
each day, in the middle grade 40, and in the lower grade 
37. For medical attendance and medicine, each is charged 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 235 

io cents per visit. On a clay of perfect record, therefore, 
men in the upper and middle grades gain io cents a day, 
and those in the lower grade eight cents. This system 
is associated with the conduct record. If a prisoner breaks 
the rules he is fined, the amount of the penalty being 
from five cents to $5, and for very serious offences a 
larger sum. If the fines in one month amount to $3 the 
prisoner is reduced to a lower grade. The fines are paid 
from his earnings, and as release upon parole depends 
upon being in the highest grade and upon having $20 to 
his credit from his earnings, the inducements to perfect 
conduct are very pressing. Some of them accumulate 
$100. 

The permanent effect of this training is seen in the 
histories of the paroled men. In the first two full years 
of the Reformatory, 239 were paroled. Only 19 were re¬ 
turned to the Reformatory for all causes combined. The 
habit of earning and saving established in the institution 
continued. During the two years these paroled men to¬ 
gether earned $27,356.24. 125 of them also received their 
board, which, at an average of $3 per week, is $9,639, mak¬ 
ing a total of $35,965.24. Some of them invested their 
savings in real estate; some in business. A larger num¬ 
ber gathered their families together and re-established 
their broken homes. 

The saving to the State, under this system, must also 
be considered. If these 220 men who were paroled and 
did not return had remained in the Reformatory the usual 
time, the aggregate would have been 145 years. The aver¬ 
age cost of maintenance was $114.76 per capita. Hence 
had these young men remained this time in the Reforma- 


236 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


tory, they would not only have failed to earn the amount 
that has been indicated, but would have cost the State 
$16,640.20 for their support. In addition some of them 
would yet have years to serve, and therefore be a con¬ 
tinuing expense to the commonwealth. 

Commenting upon these facts, Secretary Butler of the 
Indiana Board of State Charities, says: 

“Is it not better for the State as an organization that it 
be relieved of this expense; for society, that these men be 
returned to it professing reformation and willing to prove 
their profession by becoming working, earning and saving 
members of it? Is it not better for themselves that they 
can come out, with the testimony of the prison authorities 
as to their belief in their reformation,rather than have them 
go forth to the world as discharged convicts whom no 
one will hire? It makes a great difference whether one 
comes properly vouched for, asking to show the proof of 
his reformation, or comes without voucher, as a convict 
discharged at the end of his term. To no one can the 
outlook be more hopeless than to the convict discharged 
under the old system. No matter what his resolutions, 
no one receives him with confidence. Employment is 
almost impossible to find, and when found, the other em¬ 
ployes, upon learning the new comer’s history, usually de¬ 
mand his discharge. 

“What is the comparative effect of the old prison sys¬ 
tem and of the new one? Information obtained from 
those of long experience who have carefully watched re¬ 
sults and are most competent to speak on this subject sub¬ 
stantially agree. Under the old system, 80 per cent of 
those who were discharged returned to lives of crime, 


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LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 239 

and 20 per cent managed to keep out of prison. Under 
the new system, 80 per cent of those released, after the 
parole test, became law-abiding citizens, and but 20 per 
cent again found their way behind prison walls.” 

Reformation In Prison. 

Rev. Joseph Welch, Eastern Penitentiary, Philadelphia. 

The general prosperity with which the country has 
been favored seems to have lessened the number of prison 
admissions from causes which have a direct relation to idle¬ 
ness as a stimulating cause, but it has not produced as 
great an effect as might have been reasonably expected, 
indicating that crime is not merely a matter of circum¬ 
stances, nor even of occasion. There is first sin; after¬ 
wards crime. 

We cannot too strongly insist upon the evident lack of 
due training in youth in self-denial. Temptation is in¬ 
evitable ; it need not be triumphant. These lessons ought 
to be well taught at home and exemplified there; we 
might then reasonably hope for better living than so much 
of what we have. The old Proverbs teach it, and the sad 
illustrations we meet with in prison enforce the lessons. 

It is not reasonable to expect, from the circumstances 
that attend a life in prison, the development of a higher 
character than has been the outcome of the opportunities 
afforded by the ordinary life in what is called a “Christian 
community.” The shame endured, and inconveniences and 
loss of the opportunities afforded by liberty, which are 
experienced in confinement, with namelelss moral and 
mental infelicities, are not a means of grace in themselves, 


240 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

and will not transform the man brought into a subjection 
to them. The Holy Spirit can reach and does reach and 
save men in spite of the evil one, and it is only so that a 
man is “reformed,” as it is called, in prison. With all 
that we can do, it is still a problem to be worked out by 
God and the man himself. 

With all the disadvantages arising from the break in 
occupation and position, and the incubus of such a dis¬ 
aster as prison life becomes, there is still a possibility of a 
true, manly future. To make that possibility more attain¬ 
able and less crushing to the honest effort that attempts 
it, is worthy the consideration of every one claiming man¬ 
hood for himself. 

Religious And Moral Influences. 

No reformatory attempting the work of reclaiming men 
should leave out the agencies of religion and morality. 
When a Godless life brings men to prison, a Godless prison 
will do little towards their restoration. No matter how 
well prisoners may be instructed in trades, educated or 
physically trained, their reformation is not a complete 
work unless there has been instilled into their hearts a 
strong desire for the right. A reformatory should afford 
ample moral and religious instruction and should produce 
a healthy and religious atmosphere, so that its influences 
shall ever be felt.—Joseph F. Scott, Supt. Mass. Reforma¬ 
tory. 

Is Imprisonment Necessary In All Cases? 

More recently a new question has been pressing for 
an answer: “Is it necessary to imprison a man in order 
to secure his reformation?” The question cannot be an- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


241 


swered with a simple “Yes” or “No.” There can he no 
doubt that the imprisonment of recoverable men is nec¬ 
essary in many cases. The man to be reformed must be 
brought where reformatory treatment can be applied, and 
must be kept there. He needs to learn many things which 
cannot be taught him unless he can be in an institution. 
This class includes those deliberate criminals whose of¬ 
fenses are due to criminal instincts and purposes; those 
who are defective, physically and mentally; those who are 
incapable of self support because of lack of knowledge 
of trades; those who have never learned respect for or 
obedience to authority; those whose criminality is due in 
some measure to illiteracy; those who are homeless and 
friendless and have a predisposition to vagrancy and to 
wandering about. These must of necessity be imprisoned 
when they are to be subjected to reformatory treat¬ 
ment because it cannot be applied otherwise. They 
must be subjected to strict discipline, and many 
of their other needs can only be supplied when 
they have been taken by force from vicious sur« 
roundings, put under moral, ethical and religious in¬ 
struction and compelled to fit themselves for self support. 
To these large classes must be added a still larger one, 
composed of persons who have committed offences so 
grave that the community reasonably demands that they 
be subjected to imprisonment for its own protection. 
This imprisonment is not to be considered as a determina¬ 
tion that they are not recoverable, but only as a wise pre¬ 
caution, in view of their very serious offences, which are 
properly accepted as a proof that they have charcteristics 
which for the time unfit them to be at liberty. 


242 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

But when all these have been excluded there remains 
a very large number whose reformation without imprison¬ 
ment may be reasonably expected. They include many 
minor offenders, whose offences do not indicate criminality, 
but who must be deterred, in some way from their repe¬ 
tition. They also include a large number of persons whose 
offences are the result of sudden impulses, some who have 
fallen into crime on account of circumstances, and many 
of those whose crimes are due to drunkenness. Some 
persons who have committed serious offences may also 
be dealt with in this way. 

Restraints Of Custodial Supervision. 

How shall the system be administered? It is essential 
that the offender shall not be allowed to be at liberty, fully. 
In most cases he needs some restraint. He should also 
be made to understand that by his offence he has to a 
certain extent separated himself from thoise who are 
wholly free to do as they please; that he has shown ten¬ 
dencies and weaknesses which justify the State in assum¬ 
ing an oversight of his conduct. It may properly do more 
than this—it may direct the details of his life so far as it 
sees best. The court may wisely say that if he is to retain 
his liberty he shall keep away from the saloon and other 
haunts of vice; shall shun evil companions; shall do, in 
fine, whatever is thought necessary to prevent a relapse. 

This course has always been taken in a few instances. 
It has been done by laying cases on file or continuing 
them from term to term, the exemption from imprison¬ 
ment being dependent upon the continuance of good be¬ 
havior. One defect of this method is that it produces 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 


243 


a wrong impression, upon the offender. It minifies his 
offence in his eyes. He feels that he has been “let off,” 
because his wrong-doing was of little consequence. The 
community is very likely to receive the same impres¬ 
sion, if this course is taken in any large number 
of cases, and disregard for law follows. True, the sus¬ 
pension is conditioned, nominally, upon continued good 
behavior and upon a compliance with conditions im¬ 
posed, but it is well known that except in rare instances 
there is no way of knowing whether the conditions are 
kept or not, and usually the case remains on file per¬ 
manently unless the person commits a new offence. There 
is little or no attempt to keep informed regarding his con¬ 
duct, in detail. He understands the court to say to him, 
“You can go, but you musn’t do so again.” 

At this point the probation system differs vitally from 
that which has been described. The offender is not released 
from custody and control. He is as truly in custody as is 
the man who js imprisoned. He is allowed to be “at large,” 
but he is not free. His liberty is continued upon his com¬ 
pliance with certain conditions, and he is placed in the 
custody of the probation officer, whose duty it is to see 
that he complies strictly with the conditions. The stand¬ 
ard for his conduct is higher than that of the citizen who 
has not been found guilty of breaking the laws, for the 
latter can go into the saloon, or with vicious companions; 
can work or be idle as he pleases, and nobody can inter¬ 
fere with any of his actions until he breaks a law. But 
the State requires the probationer to avoid all courses 
tending to lead to crime, appoints a man to see that he 
obeys, and compels the probationer and the probation 


244 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


officer to report to the court. Practically the court says to 
the probationer precisely what the superintendent of a 
reformatory says to one in his care, not, “You musn’t 
do so again,” but, “You must reform”—change your whole 
manner of life, not only avoid overt criminal acts, but 
avoid everything which tends in the wrong direction. 

Prevention Of Prison Contamination. 

The advantages of this plan are many. The most im¬ 
portant is the segregation of law-breakers. In quite a 
percentage of cases the man who commits his first offence 
has no criminal acquaintances. Imprisonment throws him 
into contact with men who are criminals at heart. One- 
half of all the inmates of Massachusetts county prisons 
have served previous sentences, and 15 per cent, of them 
had served in the same institutions from 6 to 50 times 
before. To force into such companionships the man who 
has heretofore kept himself among reputable associates 
cannot fail to injure him. Probation also saves the offender 
from the prison brand. When one becomes known as a 
“jail bird” he loses in self respect and many of his hopes 
vanish. Disgrace also attaches to the family of the pris¬ 
oner, especially to his children. The loss of his wages 
by his family is a serious thing. Many offenders have 
families and support them. When they are imprisoned 
the families become dependent. The prisoner also loses 
his place in the world. Some one else takes his situation, 
and when he returns from the prison he may remain idle 
for a long time, involving himself and his family in con¬ 
ditions which lead to pauperism. He is very likely under 
such conditions to lose his courage and relapse into crime. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 245 

It is a serious thing, also, to break the bond between man 
and his family, and to relieve him of the feeling of responsi¬ 
bility for their support. When he finds (and they find) 
that their support does not depend upon his industry, great 
harm has been done. 

All these evils can be avoided by custodial supervision, 
which prevents the contamination of prison life; saves from 
the prison brand; retains the offender in his place in the 
world, as a wage-earner, and compels him to support his 
family. With this is the added direct advantage of the 
friendly counsel and support of the probation officer, 
whose duty is not so much to watch his charge as to 
watch over him and re-inforce his resolutions and pur¬ 
poses. 

Results Op Massachusetts Experiment. 

These are not abstract theories. Massachusetts has 
been practicing them for nine years and more, under the 
present law, and many years more in a tentative way 
under a previous statute. More than 5,000 cases are 
taken on probation every year. The results have been 
so satisfactory that this year the legislature has authorized 
important extensions of the system, and created machinery 
which will make it possible to greatly increase the number 
of probationers. It has been found that comparatively few 
persons relapse or disappear while on probation and that 
probationers who had neglected their families now sup¬ 
port them. (One probation officer collects wages of pro¬ 
bationers amounting to more than $4,000 a year and dis¬ 
burses it for the support of their families in cases of 
“neglect of family” alone.) Embryo criminals are kept 


246 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


under close observation and the weak are strengthened 
and upheld. 

Besides the work of custodial supervision, the proba¬ 
tion officers render a very important service in investiga¬ 
ting criminal cases. Before the office was created the 
courts knew little of those arraigned, except that they 
had committed certain offences. The probation officers 
are now able to inform the court as to previous offences, 
if any, and in regard to the family of the accused; whether 
he is employed or idle; whether he support or neglects 
those dependent upon him, and in fact everything which 
will enable the court to dispose of the case wisely. 

Probation For Persons Sentenced To Pay Fines. 

In recent legislation probation has been extended to 
cases in which fines are imposed. Heretofore if the fine was 
not forthcoming at once, the persons must be imprisoned. 
The unreasonableness of expecting to find three dollars 
in the pocket of a man who was just getting over a spree 
was so apparent that the new law authorized the suspen¬ 
sion of the imprisonment, putting the man in control of 
the probation officer, to whom he may pay his fine. It is 
expected that the new law will prevent a large number 
of commitments, thereby saving a large expense for com¬ 
mitment fees, enabling the men to retain employment and 
secure a much larger revenue from fines. 

Nothing can be more unbusinesslike than the present 
system of dealing with persons upon whom fines are im¬ 
posed for minor offences. To secure the payment of the 
fine it is necessary to provide for imprisonment as the 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 247 

alternative of non-payment. The result has been that in 
Massachusetts, in 1899, 16,173 were committed to prison 
for non-payment of fines, and 4,323 paid their fines in order 
to secure release from prison. In other words the attempt 
to secure the fine by imprisoning the convict failed in about 
three-fourths of the cases. The attempt cost the tax¬ 
payer the expense of committing more than 16,000 per¬ 
sons and of supporting more than 11,000 of them for a 
time. The 4,323 who paid their fines would, have done 
the same if they had been placed on probation with the 
condition that they pay their fines to the probation officer, 
and many of those who did not pay, because prevented by 
imprisonment from earning the money, would also have 
paid them if they had been placed on probation. The 
public treasury will receive more money from fines by 
making the probation officer instead of the prison keeper 
the collector, and will make very great savings on the 
cost of commitment and the cost of maintaining prisoners 
held for non-payment of fines. 

> 

Some Causes Of Crime. 

It is apparent that there is something lacking with 
the majority of those committed to prison. One cannot 
but be impressed by the hanging heads, the stooping 
shoulders, the crooked backs, the shambling gait of pris¬ 
oners who pass before him. They are defective: notably 
physically defective. What do they lack and why are they 
here? The greatest reason for their being prisoners is 
disturbed family relations. In over 50 per cent of the 
cases in the Indiana Reformatory one or both parents 


248 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


are dead. Others have separated, or one is in an insane 
hospital or elsewhere in confinement. The great, majority 
have been deprived of home influences and home training. 
They have not been taught obedience. They lack mental 
training; 25 per cent can neither read nor write. 400 out 
of 950 in the reformatory night school had not reached 
the fourth grade in the public schools. Only 39 of the 849 
received last year had reached the high school; 75 per 
cent have no trade, and it is likely that 95 per cent of 
them have learned what they know so poorly that they 
could not be considered mechanics; 80 per cent have 
used liquor and tobacco. A still larger percentage have 
associated with bad company. They have let their passions 
and appetites lead them whither they would. They lack 
self control. The work of the reformatory is to remedy, 
as far as possible, the physical defects; to furnish instruc¬ 
tion in the school of letters; to teach self control, to de¬ 
velop their hands by manual training and to teach them 
trades.—A. W. Butler, Sec’y Indiana Board of State Chari¬ 
ties. 


Importance Of Employment For Prisoners. 

A suitable occupation is important—is imperative—to 
the health of the mind and body of a prisoner. When a 
man is not on good terms with himself, it is unwhole¬ 
some to give him no other company. To be enjoyed and 
beneficial, the occupation should be, if not congenial, at 
least attractive, and as far as possible in the accustomed 
lines of work. Lack of suitable employment is one of 
the most formidable obstacles in the way of the moral 
growth of our prisoners at the present time. Men kept 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 249 

in idleness deteriorate mentally as well as physically, be¬ 
come morose and fretful and are not susceptible to the 
elevating influences that would otherwise be effective. The 
prejudice against prison labor, which in Pennsylvania has 
crystalized into legislation practically prohibiting the em¬ 
ployment of our prisoners at lucrative and ennobling 
work, I am convinced, is the outgrowth of a miscon¬ 
ception of the real purpose of the prison to be a reforma¬ 
tory institution, where the inmate is subjected to a course 
of treatment—scientific treatment I would call it—as a 
moral invalid, with a view to fitting him for usefulness 
in the world. This unfortunate state of affairs, however, 
can be easily remedied by suitable legislation.—Rev. D. 
R. Imbrie, Chaplan Allegheny Co. Workhouse. 

Who are these men—these men who look at you with 
wistful eyes through grated windows and barred doors? 
How came they to be where they are, and what evil causes 
have combined their influences to make these men what 
they are? They are of that genealogy of whose beginning 
it is written, “Which was the son of Adam, which was 
the son of God.” They are God’s men, not thrust away 
from Him because marred by defects; not forsaken by 
Him; not hated of Him; but pitied of Him, and loved of 
Him.—Chaplain Locke, Ohio Reformatory. 

How shall we get the right people interested in these 
great problems of charities and correction, and how shall 
we make the work that is to be done a living, vital one, 
affecting us and our children and the cities we live in? 
How shall we get the right influences to bear upon these 
many complex problems of our social life so that great 


250 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

things may come, so that this State may be better and 
grander? Look back fifteen or twenty years and think 
what great things have been accomplished in that time, 
and then look forward fifteen or twenty years and believe 
how much greater things shall be done. The social ques¬ 
tion is the question of the twentieth century, the question 
of men and women and children. I wish I had time 
to bring before you these people about whom we 
are thinking—the inmates of hospitals for the in¬ 
sane, the prisons, the asylums, the various or¬ 
phans’ homes, persons helped by the trustees. You 
would have a better idea of what this great com¬ 
plex problem is with which we have to deal. We can 
not escape these problems. They are all around us. They 
are borne in upon us. How shall we face them ? I know 
no better way than to read and think and learn, and to 
try very hard, each of us, to do our own part. I believe 
we can overcome these evils if,only we take hold and do 
it. The question comes to every one of us: “How can 
I take hold? How can I help in the best possible way?” 
We must work together, ignoring politics, ignoring class 
distinctions, difference of sect, race or creed. That is what 
it means to me. We must join, as brothers and sisters, 
in lifting up these other brothers and sisters who are 
down. That is what this Conference means. That is what 
we want to take home with us now; that is what we 
ought to leave behind us. May we feel that we have done 
some little good in this city of South Bend; that we have 
given you a glimpse of the work we are doing, and have 
got a glimpse of the work you are doing. Let us feel 
that we are not working alone, and let us go away from 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 251 

the Conference strengthened for another year’s strug¬ 
gles.—Alexander Johnson, before the State Conference of 
Charities at South Bend. 

With a great majority of people, the world over, the 
prisoner, whether man, woman or child, is a forgotten and 
therefore a neglected character. There are times when 
people are made painfully aware of the fact that prisoners 
exist. The expense of providing for them decently, the 
political breeze that is sometimes raised over the appoint¬ 
ment of a warden, or the occasional scandal that attaches 
to some gross mismanagement of a prison, opens people’s 
eyes to the fact that the criminal, like the poor, is ever 
with us. But they occupy a little world entirely their 
own, and the average Hoosier, or any other American, 
knows more about the Filipinos than he knows about the 
2,100 men, women and children who. are in the prisons 
and reformatories in this State. As to these people’s loca¬ 
tion, term of service, employment, food, dress, discipline, 
moral, educational or religious advancement, manner of 
discharge, hereditary entanglement, influence of environ¬ 
ment, hopes, fears, sickness, sorrows or despair, the 
general citizen, even though well instructed, intelligent 
and religious, knows next to nothing. It is with the 
object of doing away with this appaling ignorance, not 
to say indifference, that Prison Sunday has been estab¬ 
lished. 


252 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


The Church And Ex-Convicts. 

Expressions from Leading Indiana Ministers. 

The duty of the church is to train all men, convicts 
or ex-convicts, into spiritual strength. The opinion and 
example of the Master are conclusive on this point. He 
brought hope to all. 

The best people will be friends of every man who 
seeks to atone for a previous guilt. Let the pastor seek 
out a few men of this stamp who will keep a kindly watch 
on the young man; invite him to dinner now and then; 
tempt him to the church and to the pew; try to foster 
his better nature, which will often droop under discour¬ 
agements ; help him with good companionship :—in a word, 
care for him in tactful, adroit way. Supply him with 
good books that make earth bright and life rosy. All 
these plans and more will depend upon the minister and 
a few friends. If common sensed—and rare is common 
sense in handling people—they will screen the past and 
give him the best chance. I have seen colts on a ranch 
in California that were too frisky and bruised a limb; the 
men at once came to their succor, applied liniments and 
oils to heal the sore or set the bone; and often on ranches 
they take better care of horses than we do of men. The 
general attitude of encouragement is the best medicine. 
Our silent attentions far outweigh all our loud protestation 
of interest in men. God and man should give every man 
who falls a chance to rise, and if he backslides we must 
not despair of his becoming a man in the end. Keep on. 
A more active correspondence between the authorities of 
the Reformatory and the ministers would be desirable. I 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 253 

feel certain ministers are ready to help any ex-convict 
to win back his manhood in the war of the world.—J. 
Cumming Smith, Indianapolis, Ind. 

* * * * * 

The duties of the church to the ex-convict may all be 
summed up in the paramount duty to always treat him 
as a person counting one in society, and awakening him 
to the consciousness of latent moral possibilities, and 
undeveloped spiritual attainments, by showing him that 
God became man in Christ Jesus that man might become 
divine.—M. S. Marble, Kokomo, Ind. 

I think that convicts, who have undertaken again to 
go out into society to become true men and good, above 
everything else desire the recognition of their manhood, 
and an assurance that people do not turn away from them. 
The church therefore owes them peculiar attention and 
kindness. Christian ni£n owe them a chance to earn 
their living by honest toil. 

The churches of Indiana should also be intelligent upon 
the methods of the Reformatory, and should co-operate 
patiently and heartily with the officers of the Institution 
in the care of ex-convicts. The churches should assist in 
the formation of an intelligent public opinion, which will 
keep the Reformatory from partisan politics, and put back 
of it the power of the whole people.”—W. M. Tippy, Terre 
Haute, Ind. 

Opinions Of Prison Men. 

There is nothing more moral than hard work. There 
is nothing more invigorating to character than hard work 


254 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


successfully and adequately paid, for successful work is 
in itself a restraining of unwholesome desires, and a means 
by which the will is enthroned and the conscience given 
voice.—Prof. S. G. Smith. 

j}: :Jc ^ & H 4 

When you take the 100,000 population of prisons and 
cast up their ages and take the average, you will find that 
it is only twenty-six or twenty-seven years. They are 
young men susceptible or improvement. If you look further 
you will find that many of them were born wrong. There 
is also a percentage whose wrong comes from environ¬ 
ment; they never had a chance, many of them are illiter¬ 
ate, their minds have been neglected.—Warden French, 
Kansas. 

^ 5|S >|C 

Once the executive department only tied a rope around 
a convict’s neck or prepared a stake and fagots of wood 
and roasted him alive. After a time h began to take care 
of his person in prison; now by due process of evolution 
it seeks to rehabilitate him that he may no longer be a 
menace to society. Its functions are yearly expanding as 
the public intelligence is being aroused to the necessity 
and obligations of reforming the prisoner.—Warden E. C. 
Coffin, Ohio. 

sj« ijs sj« sjs 

Experience has shown that there are criminals who are 
incorrigible. Some of these are congenital criminals or 
rural idiots, some have deliberately made a profession of 
crime, and for such there seems but one adequate remedy 
for the protection of society, and that is their permanent 
seclusion inside of prison walls, with compulsory labor 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


255 


sufficient to pay the current expenses of the prison. Sure¬ 
ly any one who by repeated conviction of crime proclaims 
himself an enemy to society, is entitled to be adjudged 
an incorrigible, with imprisonment for life.—General 
Brinkerhoff. 

* * * * 

It is not more than sixty years ago that America took 
the initiative in prison reform. Three generations ago 
society's attitute toward its imprisoned criminals was 
to have the greatest security with the least expense. That 
was the governing principle. Good men and good women 
looked on absolutely unconscious at the horrible cruel¬ 
ties that were perpetrated on individuals without regard 
to the injury to society. But a few strong men took up 
the subject and looked into the conditions, and the ques¬ 
tion of prison reform became one of the greatest ques¬ 
tions of the day.—Hon. Lewis Hancock, Austin, Texas. 


Reflections From The Reflector. 

It is never too late to mend; but a man had better not 
be too long thinking about it. 

It is never necessary to whip any man in prison to 
make him a better man—it makes him a brute. 

Making men better in prison is the same work exactly 
as making men better outside. It is work upon character. 

Wanted—In every State, a Reformatory; in every 
county, an adequate jail; in every jail, a matron for wom¬ 
en prisoners. 


256 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


Penology, like geology, clearly shows an evolution¬ 
ary process. In the former the stages have been, dun¬ 
geon, prison, penitentiary, reformatory. 

Of female prisoners it may be remarked, as it was said 
of the British infantry by their French antagonists: “They 
are the best in the world, but, thank God, there are very 
few of them.” 

We may be thankful for another thing, that is, that the 
few women prisoners there are in the State of Indiana are 
in an Institution entirely by themselves. This is as it 
should be. A woman’s Reformatory managed by women 
is the ideal every State should set before it, and attain. 

Prison Sunday is often the only Sunday in the year 
that the average church goer hears anything about prisons 
or prisoners. It surely is one of “life’s little ironies” that 
missionaries and the heathen are on the regular list of 
church petitions, and prisons and prisoners are seldom if 
ever mentioned in public prayer. 

Acording to the census of 1890 there were in the 
United States 82,322 prisoners against 6,737 i n 1850; 106,- 
557 insane; 95,571 idiots; 20,411 blind; 41,283 both deaf 
and dumb; 73,045 paupers, a total of defectives of 448,806, 
nearly half a million; and these classes are increasing out 
of all proportion of population, and in each decade with a 
steady progression.—F. E. Daniels, M. D., Texas. 

If every wrong doer was punished there would be many 
more vacant homes. A story is told of a lord and clergy¬ 
man who were once driving together, and passed the city 
jail. The lord turned to his companion and jokingly said: 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


257 


“Where would you be sir, if that jail had its due?” With¬ 
out a second’s hesitation his companion smilingly respond¬ 
ed. “Riding alone, I fear.” 

The Young In Prison. 

When the census was taken, June 30, 1890, there were 
82,329 prisoners in all the prisons of the United States, 
75,924 males, and 6,405 females. A careful examination 
of the statistics shows many very interesting facts, but 
none more important than those relating to the age of 
prisoners. It has been well known that prisoners were 
young, but never before has there been an exact state¬ 
ment covering so large a number of persons at the same 
time, because no previous census showed so large a num¬ 
ber of prisoners. Here are the figures. 




U 1.LES. 

Females. 

Total 

Under 20 years of age 

8,822 

873 

9,695 

20 to 24 “ 

«< 

18,358 

1,347 

19,705 

25 to 29 “ 

<< 

15,354 

994 

16,348 

30 to 34 “ 

<< 

10,366 

712 

11,078 

35 to 39 “ 

«< 

7,592 

737 

8,329 

40 to 44 “ 

t < 

4,953 

566 

5,519 

45 to 49 “ 

< < 

3,637 

408 

4,045 

50 to 59 “ 

<< 

3,968 

456 

4,424 

60 to 79 “ 


1,761 

253 

2,014 

80 and above 


50 

12 

62 

Not stated 


1,063 

47 

1,110 



75,924 

6,405 

82,329 

More than 

eleven 

per cent, of the 

males and 

more 


than thirteen per cent, of the females were under twenty 
years of age. More than forty-four per cent, of the males 
and more than thirty-six per cent, of the females were 
between twenty and twenty-nine years of age. 









258 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


Or, dropping percentages, here are 42,534 youths and 
men and 3,214 girls and women under thirty years of age 
in the prisons of the United States on a given day! Leave 
out of mind for the time those above thirty, and fix the 
thoughts on these young men and women, more than 
twenty-six hundred of whom were in Massachusetts pris¬ 
ons. 

Besides the 8,822 men who were under twenty years 
old, there were 3,203 others that were twenty, making 
12,025 that were too young to vote! Are they beyond hope 
of reformation? It is not possible. The government has 
wisely determined that a person less than twenty-one years 
of age is not fit to exercise the right of suffrage; that 
there is a lack of the‘maturity and soundness of judgment 
that is necessary for making wise decisions. In admitting 
the same persons to this right after twenty-one, there is 
an assumption that there will come a period when the 
immature and unsound views and judgment will become 
sound. 

But what does the world say of the youthful criminal? 
Does anybody act upon an expectation that he will become 
wiser and better as he becomes older? Rarely. It as¬ 
sumes that his evil character is substantially fixed before 
he is old enough to vote, and it abandons him. The State 
acts upon this assumption. The great majority of these 
young people are thrust into prisons in which there is not 
the slightest effort to change their characters. Some States 
have established reformatories, but they have but a small 
proportion of the young prisoners. As a rule, there is 
no well-devised plan to reform these young people. 

And the church—what is its view about them? Do 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 259 

the churches have any views ? What church has a commit¬ 
tee for the reclamation of hoodlums or a committee 
to send letters or literature to prisons, or to extend a 
helping hand to a young fellow when he is discharged ? If 
a boy drops out of the Sunday school into the prison, who 
visits him? If an Endeavorer fails, who encourages him 
to try again? 

Ten thousand boys and young men will have served 
their sentences and come out of prison into the world 
in 1896 before they attain their majority. Whether they 
will return to prison again will depend in a very large 
measure upon the attitude of the community, the State, and 
the church towards them. Some will always go wrong, 
being badly born and badly reared; but, if the community 
will insist that they shall be treated in prison upon the 
assumption that they are redeemable, and not upon the 
assumption that they are hopelessly bad, there will be a 
great gain in results. 

If discharged prisoners—these ten thousand boys and 
young men, if nobody has any hope for older ones—can 
be received in the right spirit, as if those that had known 
of their fall expected them to rise again, there would be 
fewer relapses. If the homeless and friendless fellow can 
be supplied with work, and kept alive honestly until he 
can get it, the number of reformations will greatly increase. 

This is the rescue work. Better far is preventive work. 
The “hood 111111” should have special care. The young man 
or woman that slips out of Sunday school and Christian 
Endeavor meetings should be followed and brought back. 

The fourth Sunday in October is known as “Prison 
Sunday/' Ear too few churches observe it; too few pas- 


260 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


tors preach on the subject; too few Christians pray ior 
those that are out of the way. Why should there not be 
a universal observance of the day? Certainly the Master 
set an example of interest in the criminal which has had 
too few followers. Matthew, the over-reaching tax-gath¬ 
erer ; Peter, the profane; the woman at the well, and the 
robber on the cross were all guilty of deeds that are pun¬ 
ishable in Massachusetts by imprisonment. But Jesus 
gave them his personal attention, and persuaded them to 
better things. No church should omit the observance of 
Prison Sunday unless it is fully following the Master’s ex¬ 
ample in all its relations to the wayward, and therefore 
has no need of exhortation to better things.—Warren F. 
Spalding, in The Golden Rule. 

One of the practical tests of Christian virtue given by 
the Master, in the judgment scene described in the Gospel 
by Matthew, is this, “I was in prison and ye came unto 
me.” The history of prison life is one of the most thrilling 
chapters in the annals of the world. While it is supposed 
that the bars and the dungeon are for the restraint of the 
criminal and the dangerous, in point of fact some of the 
noblest spirits that have ever dignified and enriched hu¬ 
manity have been the inmates of these strongholds pro¬ 
vided ostensibly for the protection of society. The im¬ 
perfection of human judgment is nowhere more fully illus¬ 
trated than in the miscarriage of justice in the world’s civil 
and criminal courts. The students of sociology long ago 
recognized this fact, and there has been an increasing 
interest in the great subject of prison reform. On the one 
hand, the most laborious efforts are put forth to secure 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 261 

reform in the courts so that innocent persons will not be 
victimized by false testimony, mistaken or malicious 
verdicts, and unjust rulings of those who preside in 
the high and sacred functions of judicial responsibility. But 
even in the many instances where the sentence is just and 
the prisoner is guilty, still society owes him proper con¬ 
sideration. His guilt may be more formal than real, and 
may be the result of mistreatment or disadvantages which 
greatly palliate the true nature of his offense. And in 
those instances where the wrong-doing has been most wil¬ 
ful and persistent, still there is a possibility of reformation, 
and opportunity should be given to the prisoner to amend 
his life. This does not necessarily mean that he is to be 
liberated from his confinement. The pages in this book 
show that many a prisoner lives a redeemed and useful life 
even while he serves out a life term of confinement. 

There are those who would classify all crime as the 
result of physical or mental disease, and therefore that 
every criminal is to be treated with the kindness and for¬ 
bearance extended to the insane. There are others who 
insist that the chief consideration is not to be given to the 
offender, no matter how his misdeeds may be induced", but 
the chief attention must be given to society, and there¬ 
fore the prisoner must receive rigid confinement or be at 
once removed by capital punishment. The intermediate 
ground between these two extremes is assuredly the right 
position. Criminals are to be treated with the greatest care 
and discrimination. In too many instances the prisoner is 
the victim of bad usage of society for it to assume to be 
rigorous and unfeeling in the award of penalties. The 
study of Prison Life not only suggests better reformatory 


262 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


measures for the prisoner, but also wiser protective meas¬ 
ures, so that crime will be prevented and the correct life 
be encouraged from childhood on throughout maturity.— 
Hillary A. Gobin, D. D., H.L. D. 

























































































































CHAPTER XX. 

ILLUSTRATIVE) INCIDENTS. 

AT The Prison Gate,” Mrs. Annie Preston. ‘‘A Gift and 
What Came From It.” The Oed Minstree’s 
Mother’s Home,” and others, 

At The Prison Gate. 

The following story is given by Miss Anna Preston as 
related by an old gentleman, one of the prison commis¬ 
sioners of the state of Connecticut. And though the event 
occurred some years ago, I give it as illustrating some 
of the feelings that prevail in society to-day. 

“Passing the State Prison at Westerfield on foot, one 
spring morning thirty years ago, I saw the gate open. A 
man came out and the gate closed behind him. The man 
looked pale and worn and sad. He stood by the gate in 
that bright May sunshine in a perplexed undecided way, 
and I noticed that the tears were streaming down his 
cheeks. He looked up and down the road, up at the sky, 
and then stood with bowed head. ‘Where now, my friend ?’ 
I asked cheerfully. 

" ‘I don’t know, sir,’ replied the man sadly. T was 
just thinking I would throw my hat straight up in the air, 
and go the way the wind blew it. I would rather go back 
into the prison, but they won’t have me there, now that 
I have worked out my sentence. They won’t have me 
there and I don’t suppose they will have me anywhere,’ 
he went on with a broken voice, ‘but I suppose I have got 


266 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

to be somewhere. I don't know what will become of me. 
Foresight isn’t as good as hindsight.’ 

“ ‘I am walking to Hartford, take passage with me,’ 1 
said. 

“ ‘You won’t care to be seen with such company,’ he 
replied, looking at me incredulously. ‘Perhaps you don’t 
know that I have just worked out a sentence in the state 
prison here,’ he said. 

“ ‘I understand, we are all wayfarers. Come along 
with me, and we will talk the matter over as we go along 
and decide what can be done for you.’ 

“It was a lovely warm day, we walked slowly, and 
talked a good deal, or rather my 'Companion talked and 
I encouraged him to do so. Pie answered my questions 
frankly, clutching hungrily at my ready sympathy. He 
was free to talk of himself, and said at last as I smiled at 
some unimportant disclosure, 

“ ‘Reserve was never one of my failings, sir. If I tell 
anything I tell it all. That is the way I came to get into 
prison.’ ‘I never had a trade before,’ he said. ‘I think 
if I had I would not have fallen into errors. Had I had 
a legitimate way of getting a living I would not have 
been tempted as I was. I have a good trade to begin 
with now, however, I have brought that away with me, as 
well as the bitter memory, and the lasting disgrace.’ 

“ ‘It is not the fact of our being in prison, but the 
crime that carried 11s there, wherein lies the sin,’ I said. 

“ ‘But those who are not found out escape the dis¬ 
grace,’ he replied, bitterly with a deep sigh. 

“I hastened to say, ‘I think I know a man here in the 
city, who will hire you. He is a large shoe manufac- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 267 

hirer, and I am sure he will make a place for you as a 
favor to me, even if he does not need a man/ 

“The more I thought about it, the more confident I 
felt my friend would take him into his manufactory. 

“ ‘If I were in your place,’ I said, as we entered the 
city, ‘I would, not lisp a word about having been in prison.’ 

“The poor fellow stopped short and looked at me. 
The hopeful look dropped out of his face, and his eyes 
filled with tears as he said in a broken voice, 

“ ‘You have been very kind, but I had better bid you 
good bye, sir. I cannot live and die. I promised my God 
last night in'my cell, that was so dark at first, and so 
light at last when Jesus came to me there, that I would 
be true, whatever befell me, and I will keep my word.’ 

“ ‘Forgive me for tempting you at the outset,’ I said. 
‘Come on.’ 

“I saw my friend and told him the whole story. He 
had a little talk with the man and made a bargain with 
him. That night just at the hour for the shop to close, 
we three went into the work-room. 

“ ‘Here is a poor fellow who was discharged this morn¬ 
ing from the Connecticut State Prison/ said the proprie¬ 
tor, ‘I am going to give him a chance in life by taking 
him into the shop. He will begin work tomorrow.’ 

“There were indignant glances among the men, and 
one spoke up hastily, ‘I shall leave if he stays. I will not 
work with a jail bird.’ ‘Very well,’ said the employer, 
‘any one who wishes to leave may bring in a bill of his 
time in the morning.’ Only one man, the one who had 
constituted himself spokesman, left. Ten years later that 
discharged convict was the owner of that manufactory, 


268 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

and the man who would not work with a jail bird was one 
of the journeymen. 

“As I said to begin with, that was thirty years ago, 
that man whom I met at the prison door is now a sen¬ 
ator in the legislature in one of the New England states. 
He said to me this day, 

tf ‘I tremble when I think what the result might have 
been had an evil instead of a good friend met me out¬ 
side of the prison door.' ” 

A Gift and What Camk From It. 

The following pathetic story was told by the evan¬ 
gelist, J. P. Kain, in one of his sermons, and reported by 
W. L. Barth in Michigan Christian Advocate. 

“Some years ago,'’ he said, “while conducting a series 
of meetings in Michigan City, I was invited to preach 
to the convicts at the state prison, situated at that point. 
I sat on the platform with the governor of the prison, 
and watched the prisoners march in, 706 men, young and 
old. They marched in lock step, every man’s hand on 
the shoulder of the man before him. At the word of 
command they sat down and fixed their eyes on a dead 
line, a white mark painted on the wall above the plat¬ 
form. Among that large number of convicts were seven¬ 
ty-six lifers,’ men who had been committed to prison for 
life for the crime of murder. 

“After the singing I arose to preach, but could hard¬ 
ly speak for weeping. Disregarding all the rules of the 
prison, in my earnestness to help my poor, fallen breth¬ 
ren, I left the platform and walked down the aisle among 
the men, taking now one, now another by the hand and 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 269 

praying with him. Every heart was melted, and we all 
wept together. At the end of the row of men who were 
committed for murder, sat a man who more than his fel¬ 
lows seemed marked by sin’s blighting hand. His face 
was seamed and ridged with scars and marks of vice and 
sin. He looked as though he might be a demon incar¬ 
nate if once roused to anger. I placed my arm about 
his shoulder, and together we wept and prayed. 

“When the service was over the governor said to me: 

“ 'Well, Kain, do you know that you have broken the 
rules of the prison in leaving the platform?’ 

“‘Yes,’ I answered; ‘but, governor, I never could 
brook any rule while preaching, and I did want to get up 
close to the poor, despairing fellows, and pray with them.’ 

“ ‘Do you remember,’ said the governor, ‘the man at 
the end of the seat in the lifers’ row, whom you prayed 
with? Would you like to hear his history?’ 

“‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘gladly.’ 

“ ‘Well/ said the governor, ‘here it is in brief: Tom 
Galson was sent here about eight years ago for the crime 
of murder. He was without doubt one of the most des¬ 
perate and vicious characters we had ever received, and 
as was expected gave us a great deal of trouble. 

“ ‘One Christmas eve, about six years ago, duty com¬ 
pelled me to spend the night at the prison instead of at 
home, as I had anticipated. Early in the morning, while 
it was yet quite dark, I left the prison for my home, my 
pockets bulging with presents for my little girl. It was 
a bitter cold morning, and I buttoned my overcoat tight 
up to protect myself from the cutting wind that swept 
in from over the lake. 


270 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


“ ‘As I hurried along I thought I saw somebody skulk¬ 
ing in the shadow of the prison wall. I stopped, and 
looked a little more closely, and then saw a little girl, 
wretchedly clothed in a thin dress, her stockingless feet 
thrust into a pair of shoes much the worse for wear. In 
her hand she held, tightly clasped, a small paper bundle. 
Wondering who, she was, and why she was out so early 
in the morning, and yet too weary to be much interested, 
I hurried on. By and by I felt rather than heard that 
1 was being followed. I stopped short and whirled about 
and there before me stood the same wretched child. 

“ ‘What do you want?’ I asked sharply. 

“ 'Are you the governor of the prison?’ ‘Yes,’ I an¬ 
swered, ‘what do you want?’ 

“ ‘Have you—does Tom Galson live there?’ Her voice 
trembled and broke with repressed tears. 

“‘Yes. Who are you? Why are you not at home?’ 

“ ‘Please, sir, I haven’t any home. Mama died in the 
poor-house two weeks ago, an’, she told me just before 
she died that papa, that’s Tom Galson, was in the prison, 
an’ she thought that maybe he would like to see his lit¬ 
tle girl, now that mama’s dead. Please, can’t you let me 
see my papa? Today’s Christmas, an’ I want to give 
him a little present.’ 

“No,’ I replied, gruffly, ‘you’ll have to wait until visit¬ 
or’s day,’ and with that I started on. 

“I had not gone many steps until I felt a hand pulling 
at my coat, while a pleading, sobbing voice cried, ‘Please, 
don’t go!’ 

“I stopped once more, and looked down into the 
pinched, beseeching face before me. Great tears were 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 271 

brimming in her eyes, while her little chin quivered and 
trembled. 

“ ‘Mister,’ she said, ‘if your little girl was me, an’ 
your girl’s mama had died in the poor-house, an’ her 
papa was in the prison, an’ she had no place to go an’ 
no one to love her, don’t you think she would like to 
see her papa? If it was Christmas, an’ if your little girl 
came to me, if I was governor of the prison, an’ asked 
me to please let her her see her papa an’ give him a 
Christmas present, don’t—don’t you think I would say 
‘Yes?” 

“By this time a great lump was in my throat, and my 
eyes were swimming in tears. I answered: ‘Yes, my lit¬ 
tle girl, I think you would, and you, too, shall see your 
papa,’ and taking her by the hand, I hurried back to 
the prison, thinking of my own little fair-haired girl at 
home. 

Once in my office, I bade her come close to the warm 
stove, while I sent a guard to bring No. 37 from his cell. 
In a few moments he came, wondering what was wanted. 
As soon as he was ushered into the office he saw the lit¬ 
tle girl. His face clouded with an angry frown, and in 
a gruff, savage tone he snapped out: 

“‘Nellie, what are you doing here? What do you 
want? Go back to your mother.’ 

“ ‘Please, papa,’ sobbed the little girl, ‘mama’s dead. 
She died two weeks ago in the poor-house, an’ before 
she died she told me to take care of little Jimmie, ’cause 
you loved Jimmie, she said, an’ she told me to tell you 
she loved you too; but papa,’ and here her voice broke 
in tears, ‘Jimmie died, too, last week,an’ now I am all 


272 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


alone, papa, an’ to-day’s Christmas, papa, an’—an’ I 
thought maybe as you loved Jimmie, you would like a 
little Christmas present from him.’ 

“ 'Here she unrolled the little bundle she held in her 
hand, until she came to a little package of tissue paper, 
from which she took out a little yellow curl, and put it 
in her father’s hand, saying as she did so, "I cut it from 
Jimmie’s head, papa, jess afore they buried him.’ 

“ 'No. 37 by this time was sobbing like a child, and 
so was I. Stooping down, 37 picked up the little girl and 
pressed her convulsively to his breast, while his great 
frame shook with suppressed emotion. 

“The scene was too sacred for me to look upon, so 
I softly opened the door and left father and daughter 
alone. At the end of an hour I returned. No. 37 sat 
near the stove, with his little daughter on his knee. He 
looked at me sheepishly for a moment, and then said, 
'Governor, I haven’t any money,’ then suddenly stripping 
off his prison jacket, he said, ‘For God’s sake, don’t let 
my little girl go out this bitter cold day with that thin 
dress. Let me give her this coat. I’ll work early and 
late, I’ll do anything, Til be a man; please, governor, 
let me cover her with this coat.’ Tears were streaming 
down the face of the hardened man. 

"‘No, Galson,’ I said, 'keep your coat. Your little 
girl shall not suffer. I’ll take her to my home and see 
what my wife can do for her.’ 

" ‘God bless you, sir,’ sobbed Galson. 

"I took the little girl to my home. She remained 
with us for a number of years, growing into a beauti¬ 
ful Christian character. Tom Galson also became a Chris¬ 
tian, and never gave us a moment’s trouble. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 273 

“A year ago,” concluded Dr. Kain, “I visited the pris¬ 
on again. The governor said to me: 

“ ‘Kain, would you like to see Tom Galson, whose 
story I told you a few years ago?’ 

“ ‘Yes, I would/ answered the doctor. 

“The governor took me through the city, down a quiet 
street, and stopping before a modest, neat home, rapped 
at the door. The knock was answered by a bright, cheer.* 
ful young woman who greeted the governor with the ut¬ 
most cordiality. We stepped in, and then the governor 
introduced me to Nellie and her father, who because of 
his thorough reformation had received pardon, and was 
now living an upright Christian life with his daughter, 
whose little Christmas gift had broken his heart.” 

The Old Minstrel’s Mother’s Home. 

As given in a New Brunswick paper some years ago, and 

given here as an illustration of the power of song. 

“The hall was crowded one evening when the min¬ 
strels were giving a performance. They had finished 
“My Old Kentucky Home, Good Night,” with its touch¬ 
ing lament: 

“The head must bow, and the back will have to bend, 
Wherever the wanderer may go; 

A few more days and the troubles will all end 
In the fields -where the sugar canes grow.” 

They then took up the song, with its sweet refrain, 
of “The Suwanee River.” The tumult of applause was 
hushed by the appearance of a ragged old wreck crowd¬ 
ing to the front. Lifting his old banjo as a sign of 
brotherhood, he cried with a choking voice, “Boys, sing 
that song once more—for an old minstrel’s sake. It 


274 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


brings back the lost and dead: My old home rises before 
me, where I was good and happy all the day. I learned 
that song there of my mother. The vision of her smil¬ 
ing face, praising her boy, conies back with the ringing 
notes of the banjo, and the memories of long ago, when 
I wandered away to play and sing for the world. It 
listened and applauded, I was feasted, flattered, and in¬ 
toxicated with fame, and the whirl of pleasure, but I 
wrecked it all. Now old and broken down in heart, and 
strength, I am left with but one friend, my banjo. She 
who first praised me died while I was playing for the 
world. Died without seeing me for years. The world 
has forsaken me as I did her. Boys sing my mother’s 
song again, and let my old heart thrill with a better life 
once more. The house signaled its assent. The old 
minstrel sat down in the front row—when the solo reached 
the concluding of the second stanza, the singer’s eye 
turned pitingly upon the wanderer, and with a voice trem¬ 
bling with pity came the words, 

“All up and down I wandered, 

When I was young, 

O many were the days I squandered, 

Many were the songs I sung.” 

“The stranger sat bending forward, the tears cours¬ 
ing down the furrows of his careworn face, his fingers 
unconsciously caressing the strings of his banjo. All the 
summer of his life came back again. Mother, home, love, 
and his boyhood dreams. The chorus began; and the 
shriveled fingers sought the chords; with a strange weird 
harmony, unheard of before, the strains floated along the 
tide of song. The house was spell bound; the time-worn 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 275 

instrument seemed to catch its master’s spirit, and high 
above the accompaniment rang the soul like chorus from 
its quivering strings. When the interlude came, the 
minstrel sat leaning over his banjo, with all the fond¬ 
ness of a mother over her babe. 

Not a sound was heard. The solo rose again, and the 
almost supernatural harmonies drifted with it; but he 
bowed like a mourner over the dead, every heart in the 
audience was touched, and tears of sympathy were 
brushed away by many hands. The singer’s eyes were 
moist, and with plaintive sadness the last lines were sung, 
the last chorus following. The hoary head of the old 
minstrel was lifted, and his face shone with the light of 
a new dawning; his voice with peculiar blending, perfect 
in harmony, yet keeping his banjo high above the sing¬ 
ers, ringing like a rich harpstring; long, long over¬ 
strained. The memory of better days, the wanderings, 
waywardness, sorrow, remorse, hope, despair, all of his 
wasted life, seemed pent up in those melodious tones. 
The chorus closed, and his head sank down, the long 
white locks shrouding his banjo. 

The manager came before the audience and said, The 
minstrels will give one-half of the benefit proceeds to 
their wandering brother. The house approved with loud 
demonstrations. A collection followed, started in the gal¬ 
leries and swept over the hall like a shower; such a con¬ 
tribution was seldom gathered before. Again the audi¬ 
ence broke forth in round after round of hearty cheering. 
But the banjo was still hushed under the shroud of snow 
white hair, and no word of thanks, or token of gratitude 
came from the silent figure, toward which all eyes were 


276 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


turned. They called him to come up, and the manager 
went to bring him there, he laid his hand on the bowed 
head, but there was silence. The soul of the old min¬ 
strel had passed away. He was dead! He had sung the 
last song, on the borders of the Spirit Land. Sung it as 
the bird sings when it escapes the prison bars, which made 
its life sad and dreary, and flies from the scenes where 
the heart grows weary with longing. 

How To Handle; Bad Boys. 

By Mrs. Ida M. Overmeyer. 

What makes the lamb love Mary so ? Why Mary loves 
the lamb, you know. And certainly we can do much for 
the uplifting and happiness of these homeless little ones 
if we have their interest at heart. I think our family a 
most fortunate one. We have a beautiful home, nice 
grounds, a noble woman for a president, and fifteen of 
the finest people in the world who are Board of Directors, 
and, up to a short time ago, one of Ft. Waynes’ best men 
for our president. (It is needless to say the good man is 
our friend, Hon. T. E. Ellison.) 

The great problem is how to teach the so-called bad 
boy to be bettter, to shake off all that is low and dis¬ 
honest. Boys come to us seemingly depraved. In fact, 
he rather enjoys feeling that he is the toughest of the 
lot. It is almost a helpless case, we think, and we have 
many hours of wakefulness and worry, wondering which 
plan to take. We find in almost every case kindness, good 
clean clothes (not forgetting a necktie) will have much to 
do in bringing a boy away from that low, miserable life- 
Have the boys feel they are somebody. Put them upon 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


277 


their honor, and they will not betray that trust. No, they 
are too proud when they find they are trusted and 
respected. Steps were being taken to send a boy whose 
reputation was bad, very bad, to the Reformatory, when 
the humane officer said: “Give him another chance; send 
him to the orphans’ home.” When I heard of his many 
faults I was indeed discouraged. He came in with that 
swagger bad boys love to have, walked up to a mild boy, 
and said: “Come outside, I’ll show you what a tough is.” 
I put games and books before him, and soon could see a 
slight change. I said: “I am so glad you are here. I haven’t 
a boy big enough to help me.” I saw he was pleased. I 
then from time to time would give him little jobs of honor. 
I could send him down street where he would perchance 
see some of his old companions, but he never failed me. He 
one day said: “Never thought of being good. I thought 
I was too bad to ever be anything; was always told so, 
and was not addressed without an oath; I was so proud 
when you trusted me. I thought she doesn’t know I have 
been so bad and I’ll try to be what she thinks I am.” 
The boy is now sixteen, and a fine boy, living with a widow, 
who says he is the most trustworthy boy she ever saw. 
So, because a boy is bad, do not keep him down. Give him 
high ideals. Our children are trying very hard to do and 
be as others are. Mr. Ellison has been the boys’ ideal, 
and they hope some day to be able to help make homes 
for the homeless, as he has done. (One boy asked if it 
cost much to be a Senator. He wanted to be a Senator, 
too?) How much good we, as matrons, could do for mak¬ 
ing the future better. Teach the children to feel and know 
how much is expected of them, when they grow up to 


278 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

make the world better. Too much can not be said about 
the narrow lives these homeless children have. A pro¬ 
fessor in one of our State institutions was heard to say: 
“I do not see why these orphans’ homes are called ‘homes.’ 
There is nothing home-like about them. The children are 
like machines.” I am sure he never visited our home. 
Our children are very happy and contented. They are 
not made to feel that they are paupers. They are not like 
machines, to move when told, or by the ringing of a bell. 
Those who visit the home notice that the children are not 
dressed alike. We try to dress them neatly and becom¬ 
ingly. Their individuality is not taken from them. They 
laugh, sing, talk, work and play, just as we did in our 
childhood. Why should we narrow these children? Why 
should they be made to think they can never rise above 
the most humble vocations ? 

A child soon knows who is its friend. It is quick to 
detect an assumed interest. What we do for the children 
must not be done 'from a mere sense of duty. Not long 
ago a little boy was brought to the home a week before 
his mother died of consumption. When told of her death, 
and he loved her dearly, he said between sobs: “I have 
another mamma, though, haven’t I?” A bright little girl 
said: “Everybody loves children, don’t they?” Just think 
what all has been done for them. Somebody sees that 
they are all taken care of. Jesus thought of them, too, 
and said: “Suffer little children to come unto Me and 
forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven.” 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


279 


Ex-Convict in China 

The following incident was related to me soon after the 
event occurred by Mr. Shideler himself, and was afterwards 
published in the Indianapolis Press, and other local papers. 
It illustrates how with kind words and heartfelt sympathy, 
by appealing to men’s better natures, even many appar¬ 
ently hardened criminals, may—as the warden expressed it 
be redeemed. 

“I don’t expect to be a general, but I am going to be 
a United States soldier in everything that the term implies.” 
This is the gist of a letter received some time ago by War¬ 
den George A. H. Shideler of the Indiana prison at Michi¬ 
gan City. It was written by an ex-convict, who, only 
last May, completed his third sentence in prison and was 
released, with only one friend in the world to take any 
interest in his future life—his former warden and prison- 
keeper. 

His name is O’Neil, and he was thrice convicted of theft 
and thrice sentenced, and, when the last time he was re- 
f leased, he told the warden that there was little or nothing 
before him but a repetition of his former crimes and rein¬ 
carceration in the prison. 

Mr. Shideler, however, had a different view. He knew 
the man and his character. When the warden took charge 
of the penitentiary, he found O’Neil in solitary confine¬ 
ment; the prisoner was not amenable to discipline. To all 
appearances, outward, at least, O’Neil was totally depraved. 
But Warden Shideler again had a different conception of 
the prisoner’s character. 

He sent for him after a month had elapsed, ‘‘O’Neil,” 


280 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

he said to him, “I am going to take you out of solitary con¬ 
finement; I am going to put you in the second class—just 
where you would have been placed, had you entered the 
prison after I assumed control. I want you to understand 
that you shall be treated in the kindest manner possible, 
justly and impartially; I will discharge any guard that 
treats you differently. At the same time, I want you to 
realize that if you disregard the prison rules, I will sanc¬ 
tion your punishment to the fullest extent.” 

“After this conversation,” Warden Shideler continued, 
“O’Neil worked seven months without violating a rule, and 
was promoted to the ranks of the first class. On May 
30, 1900, he was discharged. The night before, I called 
him into my office. ‘O’Neil,’ I said, ‘you are about to get 
out into the world with mighty meager equipment; 
you will have a ticket to Chicago, $10 of the state’s money, 
a new suit of clothes—and not a friend anywhere. I can’t 
see much before you but the same kind of life you led be¬ 
fore you came to prison.’ O’Neil agreed with me. ‘You’re 
right, Warden,’ he said. ‘There isn’t anything.’ 

“ ‘But you have a chance,’ I told him; ‘you have $10 
in your pocket, and, if you live economically, that money 
will keep you two weeks in Chicago. I have faith in you, 
and, to show it, I’m going to add $20 of my own money to 
that $10, and you can pay me back whenever you can.’ I 
took him to the train the next day, and told him good¬ 
bye.” 

A week later the warden heard from O’Neil. The ex¬ 
convict was in Chicago. The letter said: “I was out last 
night with the same old gang. I can’t get along here, and 
I am going somewhere else.” 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 281 

Another week or two passed, and the warden received 
another letter. It was dated Annapolis, Md., and said: 
“I took your $20 and came on here. I joined the United 
States Marine Corps and am prepared now to sail for 
China.” 

Some days later a third letter followed. '‘Warden,” it 
said, “I want to say that coming across this' great Ameri¬ 
can continent to San Francisco, for -the first time I had 
the manhood within me stirred. It happened when, at a 
little way-station, a young woman pinned a bunch of vio¬ 
lets to the lapel of a soldier’s coat.” 

Then, after two or three months had passed, Warden 
Shideler heard from O'Neil again. Letters came from 
Honolulu, describing the island city, and from Manila, 
where the transports and the vessels stopped for coal; then, 
later from Tien-Tsin, where the American army was pre¬ 
paring to push on to Pekin. In the trenches before Tien- 
Tsin, O’Neil had penned the lines that the warden used to 
preface his story: “1 don’t expect to be a general, but I 
am going to be an American soldier, in everything the 
term implies.” 

“There he was,” continued the warden. “He had been 
under fire; he had gone forward in the charge with his 
company and his regiment, and he was proud of the coun¬ 
try he was serving, proud of his uniform, and, more than 
all else, he was proud of himself. The last letter came 
only the other day. It said: “I enclose a postal order for 
$25—'the $20 that I owed you and $5 more for interest. 
And I want to say that I would double the sum to be able 
to grasp that old helping hand of yours again.’ ” 

“There is not a bad man in prison, not even the worst 


282 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


convict behind prison bars,” concluded Warden Shideler, 
“that cannot be bettered by kind treatment—by being 
helped to help himself.” 


Hkaven Cheap at Any Price. 

The following incident was related to the author by 
Mrs. S. B. Shaw, of Chicago, and by her written for 
this work. 

D. L. Moody somewhere tells of a visit he made to a 
prison and of a service he held there. After preach¬ 
ing he went from one cell to another and talked with 
the prisoners. To his surprise one after another en¬ 
deavored to assure him that he was altogether inno¬ 
cent of the crime with which he had been charged and 
for which he was sentenced. Moody said he began to 
feel that surely his preaching had been in vain that all 
of these men could not be telling the truth—but at 
length he came to one man who was weeping bitterly. 
Upon inquiring *the cause of his great grief, the prisoner 
said he wept because of his sin;—that he was an 
awfully wicked man and fully deserved the punishment 
he was receiving, “Thank God”—Moody exclaimed, “I’m 
glad I’ve found one guilty man.” The prisoner was much 
surprised and asked, “Why do you say that? Are you 
not the man that preached to us this morning? How 
can you be glad that I am so wicked?” 

Then Moody explained to him that His joy was over 
the fact that he had found one man who truly sorrowed 
because of his sin and was ready to freely acknowledge it 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 283 

for to such he could freely offer the forgiveness and saving 
grace of God through Jesus Christ. 

It seems to me very plain that God could not for¬ 
give any sin until that sin be acknowledged and also 
forsaken, at least so far as the choice and will are con¬ 
cerned, without justifying sin and the Word of God 
plainly declares: “He that covereth his sins shall not 
prosper; but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them'shall 
have mercy. (See Prov. 28: 13.) 

Some years ago I met a man whose experience very 
forcibly illustrated this. While attending a State W. C. 
T. U. Convention at Marquette, Michigan, I was ap¬ 
pointed, with three others, to hold a service in the state 
prison two or three miles out of the city. When we 
came up the broad stairway leading into the chapel, 
a man in prisoner’s dress stood at the top with song- 
books in his arms. He handed each of us one of these 
and as he did so reached out his hand to shake hands 
with each of us. This, together with his manner and 
face, attracted my attention and I continued to observe 
him quite closely. From his evident freedom in moving 
about the room, I should have judged him to be one 
of the guard had he not worn the prisoner’s garb, and 
naturally concluded that he must be one in whom the 
officers of the prison had much confidence. After those 
who came 'with me and myself had taken our places 
upon the platform, the other prisoners were marched 
in under guard and before we left were marched out again 
in the same way—with the exception of the one to 
whom I have already referred and one confined in an 
invalid’s chair. As we were leaving the room I stopped 


284 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

for a moment to speak to the latter. I found, to my 
surprise, that he knew me having heard me speak at 
different times at my home which was then in Grand 
Rapids, Michigan. This led to some further conversa¬ 
tion and I hurried on to overtake my friends. At the 
head of the stairs I met again the prisoner who had 
greeted us when we entered. Again he reachd out his 
hand and at the same time expressed his appreciation 
of the service. Being again deeply impressed by his 
manner and open countenance I said, “Brother, you’re 
a Christian—are you not?” “Yes, praise God, I am,” 
lie replied, “'but it cost me dear.” Understanding that 
probably he meant that had it not been for his being 
sent to prison he might never have found God but with 
no time for further words I briefly answered, “Well, 
heaven’s cheap at any price,” and hurried on down the 
stairs. 

Returning to the city it fell to my lot to ride in 
the carriage of the prison physician. On the way I men¬ 
tioned the circumstances I have related and inquired if 
he knew the prisoner to whom I referred. “O yes,” 
said he, “that was—,” calling him by name. I then said, 
“I judged from what I saw that the prison officials have 
great confidence in him,” and his reply was, “Yes, they have 
and with good reason for that man is serving a fifteen 
years’ sentence because of his own voluntary confession 
of crime.” 

Then from him, and later from others, I heard the 
prisoner’s story which I give briefly to the reader as it 
was told me. Some years before he had been tried un¬ 
der a charge of murder but acquitted because of lack of 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE 285 

evidence. Some time after while attending a series of 
revival meetings he was brought under deep convic¬ 
tion for sin and could find no peace until he went to 
the proper officers and confessed that he was guilty 
of the crime for which he had been previously tried and 
had perjured himself in denying his guilt at the trial. 
He could not lawfully be tried and sentenced for the 
crime of which he had been legally acquitted but he was 
arrested and convicted of perjury and sentenced to fif¬ 
teen years’ imprisonment. This was what he had meant, 
then, when he said to me, “Yes, praise God, but it cost 
me dear.” 

The physician assured me that his life was an alto¬ 
gether consistent one and that the officers of the prison 
allowed him all the liberty consistent with the rules of 
the prison and that, there being at that time no Chap- 
plain at the prison, so great was the confidence that 
both officers and prisoners had in him that he was called 
upon quite largely for such service as a Chaplain would 
have given. He had then served, if I remember rightly, 
about three years of his sentence. One or two years 
later I was attending a camp meeting in the same state. 
Passing, one day, around the circle of tents I stopped to 
greet those with whom I was personally acquainted. 
Standing thus, for a moment, at the door of a tent in 
conversation with friends inside, I noticed, as I supposed, 
a stranger to whom I was not introduced. I passed on 
to the next tent but a little girl came running to me 
from the tent I had just left and said, “O, Mrs. Shaw, 
there’s a man in our tent that says he is sure he knows you 
and he wishes you would come back a minute.” Of 


286 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

course I went with her and as I came back the man I 
had supposed a stranger held out his hand saying, “I 
thought I knew you but I guess you have forgotten 
me.” I looked in his face and answered, “No, I do not 
recall having met you—where did I know you.” “Do 
you remember,”—was his reply, “meeting a man in the 
Marquette prison to whom you said Heaven’s cheap at 
any price?” “Yes,” I replied, “I remember that well.” 
“Well,” said he, “I am that man. I thought when you 
came to the tent door that I knew you and after you 
passed on I inquired your name and then I knew I was 
not mistaken and your words that day were such an 
encouragement to me that I wanted to speak with you 
again.” Then he told me that he was out on parole 
and in the employ of a farmer who was attending the 
meeting. 

I expressed my joy over his release and invited him 
over to our tent to meet Mr. Shaw. He came and there 
we had quite a lengthy conversation with him regarding 
his prison life. Some things he said have frequently re¬ 
curred to me. Among them was the statement that be¬ 
ing allowed, as he was, to visit the other prisoners to 
talk and pray with them, he had the best opportunity 
possible to get acquainted with them. “To me,” said 
he, “they opened their hearts more freely than if I had 
not, been a prisoner. There was no reason for them to 
deceive me. I had no influence outside and there was 
nothing for them to gain by sb doing and I am thor¬ 
oughly convinced that there is more than one man in 
that prison who is entirely innocent of crime.” Some¬ 
what incredulously I asked: “But how, then, were they 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 287 


convicted?” The substance of his answer was that in 
that lumbering and mining country there were many 
foreigners who were unacquainted with our language, 
customs, or laws. Some robbery or other crime would 
be committed. The guilty men, in order to screen them¬ 
selves, woiild invent a plausible story charging one of 
these foreigners with the crime. Being arrested, know¬ 
ing his innocence but having no friends and no way of 
proving it, these men would appear at his trial and 
swear against him and almost before he knew what had 
happened he would be found guilty and sentenced. And 
of course when one man was convicted the officers in¬ 
vestigated no further and the guilty men escaped.—“I 
am thoroughly convinced,” said my friend, “that this 
has been done more than once and that in the Marquette 
prison alone, there are several men who are there as 
scape-goats for the sins of others.” 

How sad, if it be true, that such injustice should be 
done in the name of justice! Would that the guilty 
ones might realize that though they escape here the 
just punishment of their crimes they only bring upon 
themselves eternal punishment—and that the hearts • of 
the innocent might be comforted with the assurance that 
there is a Friend who knows all and that though they 
suffer unjustly here, He is able to overrule even this, 
as he did for Joseph, for their greater usefulness and 
happiness even in this world and for their eternal joy. 


288 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


A Heart Rending Scene. 

I was sitting at my breakfast table one Sabbath morn' 
ing when I was called to my doer by the ringing of the 
bell. There stood a boy about fourteen years of age, poor¬ 
ly clad, but tidied up as best he could. 

He was leaning on crutches; one leg off at the knee. 
In a voice that trembled with emotion, and tears coursing 
down his cheeks, he said: 

Mr. Hoagland, I am Freddy Brown. I have come 
to see if you win go to the jail and talk and pray with my 
father. He is to be hung to-morrow for the murder of 
my mother. My father was a good man, but whiskey did 
it. I have three little sisters younger than myself. We 
are very, very poor, and have no friends. We live in a 
dark and dingy room. I do the best I can to support 
my sisters by selling papers, blacking boots, and odd jobs; 
but, Mr. Hoagland, we are awful poor. Will you come 
and be with us when father’s body is brought home ? The 
Governor says we may have his body after he is hung.” 

I was deeply moved to pity. I promised, and made 
haste to the jail, where I found his father. 

He acknowledged that he must have murdered his 
wife, for the circumstances pointed that way, but he had 
not the slightest remembrance of the deed. He said he 
was crazed with drink, or he would never have committed 
the crime. He said: 

“My wife was a good woman and faithful mother to 
my little children. Never did I dream that my hand could 
be guilty of such a crime.” 

The man could face the penalty of the law bravely for 
his deed, but he broke down and cried as if his heart 


I 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 


289 


would break when he thought of leaving his children in 
a destitute and friendless condition. I read and prayed 
with him, and left him to his fate. 

The next morning I made my way to the miserable 
quarters of the children. 

I found three little girls upon a bed of straw in one 
corner of the room. They were clad in rags. They were 
beautiful girls had they had the proper care. 

They were expecting the body of their dead father, 
and between their cries and sobs they would say, “Papa 
was good, but whiskey did it.” 

In a little time two strong officers came, bearing the 
body of the dead father in a rude pine box. They set it 
down on two old rickety stools. The cries of the children 
were so heart-rending that they could not endure it, and 
made haste out of the room, leaving me alone with this 
terrible scene. 

In a moment the manly boy nerved himself and said: 
“Come, sisters, kiss papa’s face before it is cold.” They 
gathered about his face and smoothed it down with kises, 
and between their sobs cried out: “Papa was good, but 
whiskey did it, papa was good, but whiskey did it. 

I raised my heart to God, and said: “O God, did I 
fight to save a country that would derive a revenue from 
a traffic that would make one scene like this possible?” 
In my heart I said: “In the whole history of this accursed 
traffic there has not been enough revenue derived to pay 
for one such scene as this. The wife and mother mur¬ 
dered, the father hung, the children outraged, a home 
destroyed.” I there promised my God that I would vote 
to save my country from the rule of the rum oligarchy. 


390 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


A system of government that derives its revenue froip 
results such as are seen in this touching picture must 
either change its course or die, unless God’s law is a lie.— 
Selected from “The Berean. 


Thb Widow and the Judge. 

Sometime about the commencement of the year 1871, a 
train was passing over the North-Western Railroad, be¬ 
tween Oskaloosa and Madison. In two of the seats, facing 
each other, sat three lawyers engaged at cards. Their 
fourth player had just left the carriage, and they needed 
another to take his place. “Come, Judge, take a hand,” 
they said to a grave magistrate, who sat looking on, but 
whose face indicated no approval of their play. He shook 
his head, but after repeated urgings, finally, with a flushed 
countenance, took a seat with them, and the playing went 
on. 

A venerable woman, gray and bent with years, sat and 
watched the Judge from her seat near the end of the rail¬ 
way carriage. After the game had progressed awhile, she 
arose and with trembling hand and almost overcome with 
emotion, approached the group. Fixing her eyes intently 
on the Judge, she said in a tremulous voice: “Do you 
know me, Judge-?” 

“No, mother, I don’t remember you,” said the Judge, 
pleasantly. Where have we met?” 

“My name is Smith,” said she; “I was with my poor 
boy three days, off and on, in the court-room at Oska¬ 
loosa, when he was tried for—for—for robbing somebody, 



LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 291 

and you are the same man that sent him to prison for 
ten years; and he died there last June.” 

All faces were now absorbed, and the passengers began 
to gather around and stand up all over the car, to listen to 
and see what was going on. She did not give the Judge 
time to answer her, but becoming more and more excited, 
she went on: 

“He was a good boy, if you did send him to jail. He 
helped us clear the farm; and when father took sick and 
died, he done all the work, and we were getting along 
right smart. He was a stidy boy until he got to card- 
playin’ an’ drinkin’, and then, somehow, he didn’t like to 
work after that, and stayed out often till mornin’; and he’d 
sleep so late, and I couldn’t wake him when I knowed 
he’d been out so late, the night afore. And then the 
farm kinder run down, and then we lost the team; one of 
them got killed when he’d been to town one awilul cold 
night. He stayed late, and I suppose they had got cold 
standin’ out, and got skeered and broke loose, and run 
most home, but run agin a fence, and a stake run into one 
of ’m; and when we found it next mornin’ it was dead, 
and the other was standin’ under the shed. And so, after 
a while, he coaxed me to let him sell the farm, and buy a 
house and lot in the village, and he’d work at carpenter- 
work. And so I did, as we couldn’t do nothin’ on the 
farm. But he grew worse than ever, and after awhile, he 
couldn’t get any work, and wouldn’t do anything but 
gamble and drink all the time. I used to do everything I 
could to get him to quit and be a good, industrious boy 
agin; but he used to get mad after awhile, and once he 
struck me, and then in the morning I found he had taken 


292 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

what little money there was left of the farm, and had run 
off. After that time I got along as well as I could, clean¬ 
in’ house for folks and washin’, but I didn’t hear nothin' 
of him for four or five years; but when he got arrested 
and was took up to Oskaloosa for trial, he writ to me.” 

By this time there was not a dry eye in the car, and the 
cards had disappeared. The old lady herself was weep¬ 
ing silently, and speaking in snatches. But recovering 
herself, she went on: 

“But what could I do? I sold the house and lot to get 
money to hire a lawyer, and I believe he is here some¬ 
where,” looking around. “Oh, yes, there he is, Mr.-;” 

pointing to lawyer -, who had not taken part in the 

play. “And this is the man, I am sure, who argued agin 

him,” pointing to Mr. -, the district attorney. “And 

you, Judge-, sent him to prison for ten years; ’spose 

it was right, for the poor boy told me that he really did rob 
the bank; but he must have been .drunk, for they had all 
been playin’ cards most all the night, and drinkin’. But, 
oh dear! it seems to me kinder as though if he hadn’t got 
to playin’ cards he might a been alive yet. But when I 
used to tell him it was wrong and bad to play, he used to 
say: ‘Why mother, everybody plays now. I never bet 
only for the candy, or the cigars, or something like that/* 
And when we heard that the young folks played cards 
down to Mr. Culver’s donation party, and that’ Squire 
Ring was goin’ to get a billiard table for his young folks 
to play on at home, I couldn’t do nothin’ with him. We 
used to think it was awful to do that way, when I was 
young; but it jist seems to me as if everybody was goin* 
wrong now-a-days into something or other. But may 






LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 293 

be it isn't right for me to talk to you, Judge, in this way: 
but it jist seemed to me the very sight of them cards would 
kill me, Judge; I thought ii you only knew how I felt, you 
would not play on so; and then to think, right here before 
these young folks! May be, Judge, you don't know how 
younger folks, especially boys, look up to such as you; 
and then I can’t help thinking that may be if them that 
ought to know better than to do so, and them as are bet¬ 
ter larnt and all that, wouldn’t set sich examples, my Tom 
would be alive and caring for his poor old mother; but 
now, there ain’t any of my family left but me and my poor 
granchile, my darter’s little girl, and we are going to stop 
with my brother in Illinois.” 

Tongue of man or angel never preached a more elo¬ 
quent sermon than that gray withered old lady, trembling 
with old age, excitement and fear that she was doing 
wrong. I can’t recall half she said, as she, poor, lone, 
beggared widow, stood before the noble looking men, 
and pleaded the cause of the rising generation. The look 
they bore as she poured forth her sorrowful tale was in¬ 
describable. To say that they looked like criminals at the 
bar would be a faint description. I can imagine how they 
felt. The old lady tottered to her seat, and taking her 
little grandchild in her lap, hid her face on her neck. The 
little one stroked her gray hair with one hand and said: 
“Don’t cry, grandma; don’t cry, grandma.” Eyes unused 
to weeping were red for many a mile on that journey. 
And I can hardly believe that any one who witnessed that 
scene ever touched a card again. It is but just to say that 
when the passengers came to themselves, they generously 
responded to the Judge, who, hat in hand, silently passed 


294 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

through her little audience.—Selected from Touching In¬ 
cidents and Remarkable Answers to Prayer. 

“Five Minutes More to Live.” 

A young man stood before a large audience in the 
most fearful position a human being could be placed—on 
the scaffold. The noose had been adjusted around, his 
neck. In a few moments more he would be in eternity. 
The sheriff took out his watch and said, “If you have any¬ 
thing to say, speak now; as you have but five minutes 
more to live.” What awful words for a young man to 
hear, in full health and vigor. 

Shall I tell you his message to the youth about him? 
He burst into tears and said with sobbing: “I have to 
die! I had only one little brother. He had beautiful blue 
eyes and flaxen hair. How I loved him! I got drunk— 
the first time. I found my little brother gathering straw¬ 
berries. I got angry with him, without cause; and killed 
him with a blow from a rake. I knew nothing about it 
till I awoke on the following day and found myself closely 
guarded. They told me that when my little brother was 
found, his hair was clotted with his blood and brains. Whis¬ 
ky had done it! It has ruined me! I have only one more 
word to say to the young people before I go to stand in 
the presence of my Judge. Never, never, never touch any¬ 
thing that can intoxicate!” 

Whiskey, did it! The last words of this dooomed young 
man make our heart ache, and we cry out to God, “How 
long, how long shall our nation be crazed with rum? 
When, oh when, will the American people wake up ?” Oil 
that the professed people of God would vote as they pray. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 295 

What about the licensed saloon that deals out this poi¬ 
son that sends millions reeling and crazed with drink to 
hell ? What about the multitudes of innocent people who 
are killed by inches and sacrificed to the god of rum? We 
protect and license a man who deals out death and des¬ 
truction, and hang a man who gets drunk and kills his 
neighbor. Who was most to blame—this young man, or 
the saloon-keeper who made him crazy, or the govern¬ 
ment that gave the saloon-keeper license not only to make 
crazy but to ruin soul and body? God help us to decide 
this question in the light of the coming judgment. Amen. 
—S. B. Shaw, in Dying Testimonies of Saved and Un¬ 
saved. 

“It Was The Cursed Drink that Ruined Me.” 

To one of the Bellevue cells there came one morning 
a woman bearing the usual permit to visit a patient. She 
was a slender little woman with a look of delicate refine¬ 
ment that sorrow had only intensified, and she looked at 
the physician, who was just leaving the patient, with clear 
eyes which had wept often, but kept their steady, straight¬ 
forward gaze. 

“I am not certain/’ she said. “I have searched for 
my boy for a long while, and I think he must be here. I 
want to see him.” 

The doctor looked at her pityingly as she went up to 
the narrow bed where the patient, lay, a lad of hardly 
twenty, with his face buried in the pillow. His fair hair, 
waving crisply against the skin, browned by exposure, had 
not been cut, for the hospital barber who stood there had 
found it, so far, impossible to make him turn his head. 


296 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


“He’s lain that way ever since they brought him in 
yesterday,” said the barber, and then moved by something 
in the agitated face before him, turned his own away. The 
mother, for it was quite plain who this must be, stooped 
over the prostrate figure. She knew it as mothers Know 
their own, and laid her hand on his burning brow. 

“Charley,” she said softly, as if she had come into his 
room to rouse him from some boyish sleep, “mother is 
here.” 

A wild cry rang out that startled even the experienced 
physician: 

“For God’s sake take her away! She doesn’t know 
where I am. Take her away!” 

The patient had started up and wrung his hands in 
piteous entreaty. 

“Take her away!” he still cried, but his mother gently 
folded her arms about him and drew his head to her 
breast. “Oh, Charley, I have found you,” she said 
through her sobs, “and I will never lose you again.” 

The lad looked at her a moment. His eyes were like 
hers, large and clear, but with the experience of a thou¬ 
sand years in their depths; a beautiful, reckless face, with 
lines graven by passion and crime. Then he burst into 
weeping like a child. 

“It’s too late! It’s too late!” he said in tones almost 
inaudible. 

“I’m doing you the only good turn I’ve done you, 
mother. I’m dying and you won’t have to break your 
heart over me any more. It wasn't your fault. It was 
the cursed drink that ruined me, blighted my life and 
brought me here. It’s murder now, but the hangman 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 297 

won’t have me, and save that much disgrace for our 
name.” 

As he spoke he fell back upon his pillow; his face 
changed and the unmistakable hue of death suddenly 
spread over his handsome features. The doctor came for¬ 
ward quickly, a look of anxious surprise on his face. 

“I didn’t know he was that bad,” the barber muttered 
under his breath, as he gazed at the lad still holding his 
mothers hand. The doctor lifted the patient’s head and 
then laid it back softly. Life had fled. 

“It’s better to have it so,” he said in a low voice to 
himself, and then stood silently and reverently, ready to 
offer consolation to the bereaved mother, whose face was 
still hidden on her boy’s breast. She did not stir. Some¬ 
thing in the motionless attitude aroused vague suspicion 
in the mind of the doctor, and moved him to bend forward 
and gently take her hand. With an involuntary start he 
hastily lifteff the prostrate form and quickly felt the pulse 
and heart, only to find them stilled forever. 

“She has gone, too,” he softly whispered, and the tears 
stood in his eyes. “Poor soul! It is the best for both of 
them” 

This is one story of the prison ward of Bellevue, and 
there are hundreds that might be told, though never one 
sadder or holding deeper tragedy than the one recorded 
here.—New York Press. 


CHAPTER XXL 


SPECIFIC REFORM METHODS. 

Before concluding this volume I want to call attention 
to some specific methods employed for the reformation 
of prisoners. First I notice the direct appeals made by 
the warden and chaplain, urging the men to assert their 
manhood, and a disposition on the part of these officials 
to repose trust and confidence in the prisoners where it 
can be done with safety. The frequent visits made to 
their cells, with a word of counsel, or reproof, or good 
cheer when needed, has a salutary -effect on the minds 
and hearts of the prisoners, and goes far toward making 
the State Prison, what, under the new law it is intended 
to become, a Reformatory. In this way the men are 
brought to feel that all is not lost, and that there is 
still a chance for them, and that there are those around 
them who still care for, and sympathize with them, and 
thus they are led to entertain a hope that often leads to a 
reformation. I want to repeat here what I have said before, 
real, genuine sympathy is greatly appreciated by many 
inside the prison walls. 

Then there are gracious influences being employed by 
the State authorities, and prison officials that are having 
a very perceptible effect on the minds of the prisoners. 
Music was recognized away back in the days of the kings 
of Israel, as a potent factor for lifting the evil spirit 
out of a maids nature. The son of Jesse with harp in 




















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LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


301 


hand played the devil out of the heart of Saul, and I 
have been led to believe that the introduction of the 
orchestra in connection with the chapel services on the 
Sabbath day in the State Prison at Michigan City, and 
other like institutions, elsewhere, has had a very inspiring 
effect on the minds of many depressed prisoners. Paul 
and Silas one night long ago conducted a song service 
in the penitentiary at Philippi, the result of that service 
was the conversion of the jailor and his entire family. 
And I have no doubt that the hallowed songs sung in 
the prison chapel on a Sabbath morning, led by a precentor 
(who is a prisoner,) the different parts carried by a choir 
of prisoners and joined in by the eight hundred or more 
prisoners, has been the means of lifting many a soul out 
of darkness into light. One Sabbath morning before the 
close of the chapel service, I proposed we all join in singing 
the old familiar song, led by the Orchestra; 

“There’s a land that is fairer than day 
And by faith we can see it afar, 

For the Father waits over the way, 

To prepare us a dwelling place there.” 

And as the eight hundred men carrying the different 
parts joined in singing the chorus, 

“In the sweet by and by—we shall meet on that beautiful 
shore,” 

the harmonious melody of the song filled the entire house, 
and the whole audience was lifted nearer heaven than I 
had ever seen them before. I was led to realize as I had 
never done before, and say within myself, O, the power 
of sacred song, who can measure *it! How it stills the 


302 the men behind the bars, or 

voice of trouble and quells our griefs and awakens reflec¬ 
tions that often lead to a better life. 

It is related that when Marie Rose Mapleston was in 
Auburn, New York, she visited the state prison, and with 
the kindness and spirit of Jennie Lind years before, she 
offered to sing for the prisoners; she made one condition 
and that was, that all the inmates of the prison should 
be permitted to be present—and that those in solitary 
confinement should also, as a special privilege, be per¬ 
mitted to come into the chapel and join the others in 
listening to the music which she proposed to sing. The 
permission was granted and the poor fellows, some of 
them for the first time were permitted to hear from an 
accomplished artist the sweet notes that reminded them 
of the innocent days of youth. The chief selections of 
Marie Rose were “Sweet Spirit Hear My Prayer” and 
“In The Sweet Bye and Bye” and as they listened even 
the most hardened were moved to tears. After a tour 
through the institution, and on her return she sang them 
the old familiar song “Coming Thro’ The Rye.” Mean¬ 
while some of the most intelligent had been permitted 
to prepare a testimonial of thanks, which they presented 
to her. It closed with the following beautiful quotation, 

“God sent His singers upon earth, 

With songs of sadness and of mirth 
That they might touch .the hearts of men, 

And bring them back to heaven again.” 

Who can doubt that every one of these prisoners, twelve 
hundred in number worked with more cheerful hearts all 
that day, and that those in solitary confinement enjoyed 
the ray of light. 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OP PRISON LIFE. 303 

A gentleman visiting China several years ago, had 
been entrusted with packages for a young man from his 
friends in the United States, and after inquiry learned 
that he might be found in a gambling house to which he 
was directed; he went there but not seeing him determined 
to wait in expectation that he might come in. The place 
was a bedlam of noises: men getting angry over their 
cards and frequently coming to blows. Near him sat 
two men, one young, the other about forty years of age. 
They were betting and drinking in a terrible manner, the 
older one giving utterance to continued profanity; two 
games had been played, the young man losing each 
time. The third game with a fresh bottle of brandy had 
begun, the young man sat lazily back in his chair while 
the other was arranging the cards, the young man looked 
carelessly around the room and hummed an air—he went 
on till at length he began to sing the beautiful lines of 
Phoebe Carey, “Nearer Home, Nearer my home today”— 
the older man dealing the cards stared at the singer a 
moment then throwing the cards on the floor exclaimed; 
“Harry where did you learn that hymn?” “What hymn,” 
“Why the one you have been singing.” The young man 
said that he did not know what he had been singing; 
when the elder with tears in his eyes repeated the words 
the young man said that he learned them in Sunday school, 
in America. “Come, Harry, here is the money I won from 
you, go and use it for some good purpose—as for me, 
as God sees me I have played my last game, and drank 
my last bottle; I have misled you Harry, and am sorry 
for it—give me your hand my boy, and say for old Amer¬ 
ica’s sake, if no other, you will quit this dreadful business.” 


304 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


The gentleman who told this story saw these men walk 
away arm in arm. This touching incident was told by 
Miss Carey to her mother, a short time before her death; 
she had it from the gentleman who witnessed the incident. 

Again, the preaching of the gospel on the Sabbath 
day is listened to with such marked interest, as frequently 
to become a source of inspiration to the minister. Then 
the Christian Endeavor service, held in the early morn¬ 
ing of the Sabbath day, is a positive means of grace for 
the awakening, conversion and turning of the men in 
the way of a Christian life. Then each man if he desires 
it has a Bible in his cell, and it is quite a common thing 
on a Sunday afternoon, in passing a cell to find a prisoner 
in his loneliness, studying the Word. Passing along in 
front of the barred doors, in the south cell house, one 
Sunday afternoon, I was hailed by a prisoner who had 
passed the meridian of life, his speech betrayed his na¬ 
tionality, and told me he was a Scotchman. “I have been 
wanting to see you,” he said, “I had written my old 
mother, telling her of your visits, and the kindly words you 
have spoken to us and how I had formed a resolution to 
be a better man, and lead a different life. This week 
I received a letter from her, in which she expressed her 
gratitude to God for the good impressions made on me— 
her letter has broken my heart.” I assured him that a 
broken and contrite heart God would not despise. His 
tears fell thick and fast, his grief seemed great, but there 
was joy even in the midst of sorrow and tears, for it was 
the sorrow that worketh'repentance—not to be repented 
of. Sentimentalists may say it was all for effect, and 
that the tears shed were only crocodile tears; and that 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 305 

the sighs deep drawn were only intended to awaken 
sympathy: but I am fully pursuaded that they were the 
outward expression of a human soul touched by the 
divine Spirit. These sighs were heard by Him who is 
touched with the feelings of our infirmities and those tears 
were gathered into God’s bottle from the inner bars of 
a prison cell, to become the crystals of Heaven. I did 
not stop to inquire into the nature of the man’s crime, 
I was not his priest that he should confess to me, nor 
did I ask how long he had been in prison; nor how much 
time he still had to spend there, but I went from that 
prison cell that Sunday afternoon feeling that our God is 
as easily to be found in a dark prison house, and lonely 
cell, as amid the splendors of a well lighted palace. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

DELIVERANCE FOR THE CAPTIVES. 

S. B. Shaw. 

At the corner of almost every street in the majority 
of our cities and towns, and in sight of Christian homes 
and Christian churches we behold saloons open night 
and day with the young and old thronging their doors, 
drinking their deadly poison. 

While we write, we can behold the smoke from the 
breweries in the great city of Chicago, turning out their 
millions of barrels of liquid poison that will inevitably ruin 
homes, blast the lives of helpless women and children, and 
fill the poor house, the insane asylum, the jail and the 
prison. 

Think of the homes that are broken up! Think of 
the broken hearts of wives, and mothers, and children 
caused by these moral wrecks, and who takes it to heart ? 

All over the world millions of little children are being 
brought up in actual training for crime. Their minds 
and bodies are poisoned by corrupt and false teaching, 
and nothing but death will deliver them from becoming 
drunkards, paupers, and harlots, criminals of the deepest 
dye. Unless rescued their lives will go out in disgrace, 
in misery and eternal darkness, and who takes it to 
heart ? 

Our jails and prisons are full of criminals, right in our 
own, so called, Christian land. Tens of thousands of men 
and women are behind prison bars and in prison cells this 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 


307 


very hour; many of them would turn to God if they had 
the right help and encouragement, but who takes it to 
heart? 

No man can be a follower of the Christ of Gallilee 
without being a friend of the prisoner for in the announce¬ 
ment of His own mission Jesus said: “The Spirit of the 
Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach 
the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken¬ 
hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recov¬ 
ering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that 
are bruised.” 

Well has it been said that a friend in need is a 
friend indeed. The friends who forsake in the hour of 
darkness, or trial, or suspicion or even of failure or sin, 
are not the friends worthy of the name. True friends do 
not justify those they love in wrong doing, but they 
continue to love them in spite of wrong doing. Thus a 
true mother still loves her wandering child. Thus Christ 
loves sinners and proves Himself a friend that sticketh 
closer than a brother. 

Thus He revealed His love to the poor thief who, 
having acknowledged his guilt, turned to Him in the hour 
of his greatest need when earthly friends had forsaken 
with the penitent cry, “Lord, remember me when thou 
comest into thy kingdom,” and heard in answer, not chid¬ 
ing or reproach, but the gracious blessed words, “This 
day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.” 

And thus He has revealed His love to thousands of 
penitent hearts behind prison bars and is waiting to show 
compassion to thousands more. 


308 THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 

Surely the work of the Master should engage the 
hearts and the efforts and the prayers of all those who 
name His name. 

From personal knowledge I am convinced that thou¬ 
sands in our reformatories and prisons are there as largely 
through the sins of others as through their own while 
others are innocent of the crimes charged against them. 

Moreover I am assured that very many of both classes 
could be reached by the faithful tender preaching of the 
gospel of Christ and the manifestation of His spirit. 

Some years ago when I was engaged in revival work 
at Franklin, Mo., two boys broke open the store of the 
merchant at whose house I was being entertained. They 
were soon caught and locked in jail. There I visited and 
talked and prayed with them. The younger boy opened 
his heart to me and told how on the night of the robbery 
he had heard the church bell ring for our revival meet¬ 
ings and felt prompted to go but resisted the thought and 
was led by evil companions into the commission of crime. 
As best 1 could I pointed him to Christ and handed him 
a New Testament which he promised to read. 

Some weeks later I met the same boys in the depot 
at Washington, Missouri. They had been tried and con¬ 
victed and were on their way to serve a two-years’ sen¬ 
tence in the State Penitentiary. The younger one seemed 
greatly rejoiced to see me and showed me the Testament 
I had given him and said lie had read it through and had 
given his heart to God and was determined to live an 
earnest Christian life. How easily that soul was won! 
But I could not but think, if some child of God had lov- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 309 

ingly and earnestly invited him to church that night when 
he was just at the turning point of decision how easily he 
might have been saved that awful and bitter experience 
of prison life. 

Many seem to think of criminals as those who are too 
hard to be reached by kindness but the experience of many 
of the most successful prison workers as well as my own 
proves quite the contrary. At a service I held in the Boy’s 
Reformatory at Lansing, Michigan a very large proportion 
showed a depth of interest and feeling and an earnestness 
of desire for better things that would have been notice¬ 
able in any ordinary congregation and this is but a type of 
my experience, with many others, in preaching to men 
behind the bars. 

What is needed to reach these souls and lead them to 
the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world is 
workers -whose hearts are filled with the spirit of Christ, 
workers whose hearts are so drawn out in compassion for 
their sin-bound souls that they feel, Woe is me if to these 
also I fail to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ 
Jesus 

How else can we have sympathy for poor, weak, fallen 
humanity? How else shall we know how, in the name of 
our Master, to preach the gospel to the poor, to deliver the 
captive or recovering of sight to the blind? 

But if we thus share the suffering of Christ we shall 
share also His jov and hear from His lips the words; 
‘Lome ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom pre¬ 
pared for you from the foundation of the world: For I 
was an hungered and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty and 


310 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS. 


ye gave me drink: I was a stranger and ye took me in: 
naked and ye clothed me: I was sick and ye visited me: 
I was in prison and ye came unto me. Verily I say unto 
you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


CONCLUDING WORDS. 

It now remains for me to offer a few closing words. 
For long years I knew but little concerning the men behind 
the bars. My prejudices were all against them. I thought 
of them only as bad, and unfit for the association of men. 
They were to me criminals, justly suffering for their crimes 
and in regard to many I am still impressed that this is 
true. In many instances reformatory measures have been 
unavailing. It may be necessary to keep them in con¬ 
finement ; the safety of society demands this. But still 
they are men, fallen men, and while they live duty demands 
that we make use of every possible means for their ‘rescue. 
We recognize the fatherhood of God. It inevitably follows 
that we acknowledge the brotherhood of man. The Mas¬ 
ter taught His disciples to pray, “Our Father.” What 
do we understand by the appellation? It is evident that 
while it had a primary limitation to the disciples, it was 
not intended for the few. It was to be the prayer of 
humanity. All men, of all nations, and all ages have 
bequeathed to them this formula of prayer. All women 
and all children may clasp their hands and lift their eyes 
to heaven, and breathe the name, “Our Father.” The 
best boy or girl has no monopoly of this relationship. 
Bad boys and girls are still their father’s children. They 
may resent his authority, run away from home, associate 
with the fallen and thus dishonor the name they bear. 


312 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


They may be born into the world feeble-minded or imbecile, 
or may be crippled in life’s early stages, or because of 
evil associations bear on their persons some loathsome 
disease; their lips may have become foul with blasphemies, 
and their feet may have gone into unclean places, but 
still the relationship remains. God has never disowned 
H’is children. No prodigal son or wayward daughter 
has ever gone so far away into a strange land that God's 
father-love has not followed them. The man or woman 
may be confined within prison walls or shut out from the 
world in a felon’s cell, and bear on his or her person, 
the stigma of unnameable crimes, but God is still their 
Father. He still waits to be gracious and longs to show 
mercy. Witness the word of the Lord, as found in the 
Old Testament: “As I live, saith the Lord God, I have 
no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the 
wicked turn from his way and live: turn ye, turn ye from 
your evil ways; for why will ye die? Ezek. 33: 11. This 
is a representation of the infinite mercy of God the Fath¬ 
er in dealing with his fallen children, even those who are 
far gone in iniquity and sin. The mercy of our Heavenly 
Father is clearly seen in the attitude which Jesus assumed 
in His dealing with sinful men: for He was the represen¬ 
tative of the Father. “The Lord, the Lord God, merci¬ 
ful and gracious, long suffering and abundant in good¬ 
ness and truth—“these are mere words no more: God 
in the person of his Son has embodied them in living acts. 
As the Father’s representative He came and dwelt among 
men. Again and again, we meet with such a record as 
this; “This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them;’’ 
and the stories of Matthew, Zacchaeus, the woman of 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 313 

Samaria, the woman that was a sinner, and many others 
will occur to every memory. Self-righteousness is as¬ 
tounded. It would have a holy being keep sinners at a 
distance, or meet them with a frown. But mercy, In¬ 
carnate, did the very reverse of that. The story of the 
gospel is the story of how He went among them, enter¬ 
ing their homes, sitting at their tables, eating with them, 
healing their sick, touching them with holy hands, lead¬ 
ing them back to God. Herein is revealed the infinite 
mercy dwelling in the heart of God our Father. Not 
mercy that stands coldly waiting, in dignified silence, but 
that invites us nigh: yea that beseeches: yea that runs 
to meet us and clasp us in its warm embrace.- Just be¬ 
fore the Savior left the world He gave this solemn charge 
to his disciples, that repentance and remission of sins 
should be preached in His name among all nations. And 
to encourage them in their work He gives them to un¬ 
derstand that all power in heaven and earth belongs to 
Him, and consequently He is able to save unto the ut¬ 
termost all that come to God through Him. He never 
failed any that looked to Him. He never put a case from 
Him as hopeless. He is mighty, yea almighty, to save. 

The men, women, and children who are to be found 
in our penal institutions, and reformatories, are much 
like those outside. We cannot separate them from our¬ 
selves, for we are all of one blood. We are all one hu¬ 
manity. While some, because of their environments and 
moral training, have been restrained, and kept back 
from commiting crimes for which many have been incar¬ 
cerated, others have been less fortunate; yet it remains,' 
that we are all the creatures of God—and all alike the 


314 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


subjects of redeeming grace, and so alike the subjects 
of affectionate labor on the part of those who are the 
followers of Christ. 

Different appelations are applied to the men behind 
the bars. Some say they are decedants, or abandoned 
creatures, some call them convicts or criminals, others 
say they are deficient or delinquent. No doubt many a 
prisoner deserves to be called by any one, or all of these 
names, but, as one has said, “The true name for each and 
all of them is brother,” and God our Father is earnestly 
seeking the well being of all. I remember reading an 
account of a son who quarreled with and stole from his 
father, then fled to the city of London where he wasted 
his substance in sin. A detective was employed, and 
after a long search he found him in a house of vice, his 
health and money gone. The father was notified, and 
hastened to the wretched abode. “My son’s up there,” 
admitted him at the lower door. He climbed to the 
attic and found his sick son lying in a broken, troubled 
sleep. He bent tenderly over him and was recognized. 
“My poor boy, I've come for you: will you go home 
with me? Go home! “Yes, if you’ll forgive me father.” 
He lifted up the invalid form and took him home repent¬ 
ant and forgiven. So God in His great love for us, says 
to each unfortunate one whether inside or outside of 
prison walls, Poor son, daughter, come home, come 
home! If He finds any rebellious, He says, Come, let 
us reason together, “Though your sins be as scarlet they 
shall be white as snow.” He is faithful and just to for¬ 
give our sins. His faithfulness cannot fail, nor His kind- 


LIGHTS AND SHADES OF PRISON LIFE. 315 

ness ever depart. Sin caused the breach between God 
and man. It is a characteristic of the human heart, as 
cold is a quality of ice. Sin chills, taints, torments, de¬ 
stroys the soul. Sin demands that a penalty be paid. 
Christ becomes our substitute. It is his grace that brings 
the gulf between us and heaven. This is the Atonement. 
God is just, yet the Justifier of him that believeth on 
Jesus. The atoning love of God is the theme of adoring 
praise on earth and in heaven. There is but one condi¬ 
tion to be met; ^hat is submission to God’s government. 
What a glorious Gospel is this of the Son of God! What 
a privilege to present it to men! It not only brings Peace 
and Pardon, but lays deep and broad the only founda¬ 
tion, for the building of a character that will endure the 
test of time, or stand the scrutiny of the Judgment morn¬ 
ing. It is the only basis of all true moral reform whether 
in the penitentiary or elsewhere. What folly to even 
think that by simply educating the head, we can reform 
the man; while the heart is full of uncleanness, and fes¬ 
tering with moral corruption. Make the heart right, fill 
it with thoughts of love to God and man, then you need 
not fear to turn him loose in the world; for you have 
filled his universe with heavenly voices. He will not 
violate his parole, for he walks the earth a child of God, 
and heir of heaven, and has become a co-laborer with God 
for the rescue of others. 

And now while breathing an earnest prayer to my 
Heavenly Father, that He would make this humble vol¬ 
ume a light and blessing to some burdened souls, I will 


316 


THE MEN BEHIND THE BARS, OR 


close with a quotation from Henry Van Dyke, for the 
benefit of all who would reach heaven. 

“Who seeks for heaven alone to save his soul, 

May keep the path, but will not reach the goal: 
While he who walks in love may wander far, 

Yet God will bring him where the blessed are.” 



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